


To Catch a Raven

by ellay_gee



Series: The Raven, the Wolf, the Fox, and the Chocobo [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Bugs, Dammit nyx, Did I put au yet?, Did you see that?, Fluff, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Kidnapping, Poor Prompto, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shits gonna get magical, That's right, Torture, Triggers galore, cause thats how i roll, concrit welcome, crowe makes a brief appearance, disturbing images, encouraged even, everyone pick on prompto, extremely creepy bahaviour, hey look more Crowe, kinkmeme fill, like none, noncon, pantsless battles, referenced consensual underage sex, seriously zero, small spaces, sorry everyone, the end??????, wee tiny bits of fluff, writer is satan, wtf is wrong with me, you know whats coming, you might have to squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 22:26:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 21
Words: 60,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11366892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellay_gee/pseuds/ellay_gee
Summary: While Noctis is on a diplomatic mission in Accordo, his best friend finds himself in the clutches of some not so savory characters who may do anything to find out more information regarding the prince.





	1. chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> heeeeyyyyyy so this is my first kinkmeme fill, lovingly stolen (with permission and maybe a little encouragement) from MsChevious, who is awesome. You are all awesome. I love you so. Enjoy my addition to the evilness and wonder that is KINKMEME
> 
> prompt:  
> Prompto probably knows A LOT. He knows the Noct's personal schedule, entry code to his apartment building, small but significant things if one is out to assassinate or capture the Prince. And on top of that, who knows what he could have overheard Ignis and Gladio talking to Noct about that a commoner should not know about. 
> 
> So lets see someone, either directly connected to Nifleheim or a home-grown terrorist group, take advantage of this unguarded highschool kid with personal royal secrets. They snatch him up and do their worst to get him to tell them everything. And when I say their worst I mean THE WORST anon can come up with. Anything (short of amputation) goes. How/when Prompto is rescued as well as weather or not they manage to break him is up to anon. If they DON'T break him, it should be horrendously difficult for him to hold up to the point that he starts to lose hope he'll hold out, if they DO break him, it shouldn't be easy, he took a lot of punishment and held out WAAAAAAY longer than they expected.
> 
> Once he's out of his captors hands, he's greatly traumatized, but he's strong and surrounded by support from Noct, Ignis, and Gladio.

Prompto was _boooored._ Like _, _bored__ bored _._ Like, so bored that he literally could not see straight. With the way it kept wandering, he was almost certain that his left eye was intent upon exiting his face and making a run for it out of the slightly cracked window of his history classroom. _  
_

 

He couldn’t blame it. If he’d fit through it himself, he’d be gone.

He sunk lower and lower in his seat, trying not to audibly groan over the teacher’s lecture. She was just going on and on aaand _oooonnn_ about some old king and an even older sword and some boring prophesy, and sure, maybe he’d find it interesting if Noctis was the one talking about it, but with his friend on a weeklong diplomacy mission to fucking Accordo of all places, he didn’t even have someone to exchange smart ass texts to (or to embarrass the teacher when she made mistakes). 

Speaking (thinking) of which; “Argentum!” the teacher hissed, all aggravation and reprimand as she stalked up to his desk. She planted her hands firmly on her hips and glowered down at him until he sat up more properly in his seat.

Ears tinged red with embarrassment, he stuttered out an apology while the rest of the class giggled and the teacher rolled her eyes.

He was saved from further lecture when a loud knock sounded at the door. Shooting him one last glare, she stomped to the door and flung it open. Her anger quickly dissolved into confused respect upon finding two Crownsguard members on the other side.

They exchanged a few quiet words, the teacher vaguely gesturing to Noctis’ empty desk. One of them, who stood about six feet tall and was well muscled with a dark complexion and light eyes, scanned the room’s occupants, coming to a stop on Prompto. He nudged his smaller partner surreptitiously and the man nodded, speaking with the teacher again.

She turned back to the class and smiled brightly, clapping her hands together. “Get your things, Argentum, you’re wanted at the Citadel.”

Prompto’s face fully reddened. The kids in school all knew that he was Noctis’ best friend, but he’d never been collected by the Crownsguard for official business before, and they were staring.

He managed to gather his things and get out the door without dropping anything and quickly followed the two Crownsguard through the halls. As they passed it, he veered off towards his locker without warning and jumped in alarm when the two men suddenly boxed him in as he worked his combination. “Uh, sorry, I just didn’t think I would need my history notes and stuff.” At a gesture from the taller Crownsguard, he opened the locker and shoved his school things inside, quickly slamming it closed and following the men once again.

“So, hey guys,” he smiled at them brightly, always excited to meet a new person who worked in the Citadel. He and Noctis tended to hang out in arcades and restaurants and Noctis’ apartment. “I’ve never seen you two before. What’re your names?” Prompto had to nearly jog to keep up with the two older men.

The smaller one, who wore his dark green hair cropped short, glanced back to him. “That’s not important right now. We need to get you to the Citadel.”

Prompto frowned, but kept his mouth shut. For about ten seconds. As they began descending the side stairs…(side stairs, that’s weird, why didn’t they just go down the main stairs? It was closer to the parking lot), he piped up again; “Is everything ok? Is Noctis back early? Why didn’t Ignis just come get me?”

By way of answering, the taller man fell back to walk next to him and grabbed onto his upper arm tightly. Prompto let out an offended squawk and tried to shake his grip loose, to no avail.

“Hey, yo, buddy, that hurts! Pretty sure you guys aren’t supposed to go around manhandling regular citizens.” Prompto was definitely nervous, now. Well, to be fair, he was always a bit nervous, but his stomach was telling him something is off about the entire situation.

The man ahead of them chuckled quietly. “Well, you’re hardly a regular citizen, now are you?”

Vague unease bloomed into panic as they swept through a side door and out into the parking lot. Prompto quickly whipped his phone out of his pocket with his free hand. When the man holding his arm glared down at him, he forced a sheepish smile. “I, uh, should probably call my parents to let—“

“They’ve already been contacted.” The green haired man snapped.

“You talked to them?” He squeaked again when the swarthy man readjusted his grip, hitching Prompto up slightly, making him stagger.

“Yeah, I told you. We talked to your mom. Says she’s fine with it. Says she’s saving you dinner and everything.”

“But—“ he tried again, but quieted when the man’s words sunk in. Both of his parents were out of town this week. There was no way she’d said that to them.

The green haired man—obviously the one in charge—whirled and gave him a reassuring smile. “Relax, kid, we’re just taking you to the Citadel. I’m sure you’ve been there plenty of times. There’s no reason for you to be nervous.” He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and hit a button, the lights on a blue sedan a few spaces away flashing as the doors unlocked.

Prompto may not have noticed that the stitching on the Crownsguard’s coats was off. He may not have been able to tell that the materials they were made of were of a much lesser quality than the standard uniforms. He may have even been oblivious to the fact that the insignia on their coats was printed backwards, but he did know one thing without a doubt; every car owned by the royal family and the Citadel itself was black. There was not one vehicle with crown city plates that was not some variation on that midnight theme.

He swallowed hard as he was pulled closer to the car. “You’re not really Crownsguard, are you?” He didn’t wait for an answer before trying to wrench his arm away, attempting to employ a few of the defense moves that Gladiolus had taught him. He got out half a shout for help before a hand clapped roughly over his mouth and he was pulled back against the larger man. An arm snaked across his chest, effectively pinning Prompto’s own arms to his sides.

He began frantically—blindly—mashing buttons on his phone, hoping to dial someone; anyone.

The green haired man swaggered up to him, a calculating glare twisting his features. “Now why couldn’t you just come quietly, eh kid?” He snatched the phone out of Prompto’s shaking hand and pocketed it, sneering down at the freckled youth.

Unable to respond due to the massive hand clamped over his mouth, Prompto struggled, trying to release his arms from the punishing grip. When the green haired man reached towards him again, Prompto used the other man’s grip on him to lift his feet off the ground and plant them firmly into the smaller man’s chest, sending him tumbling back.

The maneuver did nothing to dislodge him from his captor, however. The swarthy man let go of his face for a moment, and Prompto gathered breath to let out a scream—  
But that wooshed out as little more than a groan when the larger man drove his fist up into the boy’s solar plexus, forcing all the air from his body at once. Prompto went all but limp in his grip and the man clapped his hand over the boy’s mouth once more.

The green haired man glanced around, and seeing no one in the vicinity, offered Prompto a predatory smile. Without another word, he reached forward and pinched the freckled boy’s nose shut. Desperate and panicking, Prompto managed to part his lips enough to gasp against the palm of his captor, but the action was little more than hyperventilating at that point and only worked to speed up the inevitable outcome. The green haired man’s grin grew broader as the boy’s struggles weakened and his eyes drifted closed.

 

* * *

 

 

Noctis sunk low in his chair, doing his best to ignore the daggers that Ignis was currently shooting at him with his overly green eyes.

So, yeah, he may have dozed off just a little. But in his defense, the meeting was boring. And besides, it was partly Ignis’ fault. Had he not kicked Noctis under the table, he wouldn’t have let out that curse, and no one would have even noticed he had been asleep. Probably.

He straightened up when his adviser’s glare deepened into a scowl. The other officials around the table had already begun discussing business once again, thankfully, and he tried his best to tune back into the conversation.

Just as the meeting was finally drawing to a close, a shrill whistle followed by the raucous kwehing of chocobos sounded from the vicinity of Ignis’ coat pocket.

To his credit, Ignis did not become outwardly flustered. He shot the grinning Noctis a clouded glare and reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. He softly apologized as he rejected the call and the other dignitaries let the affront slide, quickly ending the meeting.

Once they were out in the hall, Ignis huffed out his annoyance. “How did he do it? Was this planned? Some sort of prank meant to embarrass me?”

Noctis did a good job of keeping his face straight as he feigned innocence. “How did who do what?”

“The phone, Noct. I had it set for silent during the meeting and somehow Prompto has programmed his particular ringtone—which he also changed from the standard tone to that embarrassing cacophony—to ring audibly anyway.”

Noctis laughed again, gently bumping into Ignis with his shoulder. “I dunno, Iggy. I keep telling you he’s smarter than you give him credit for.”

Ignis furrowed his brow, pausing at a crossway in the halls. They went left, towards the main doors. “I have never questioned Prompto’s intelligence.”

“No,” Noctis agreed, “just his interests and his hobbies and his motivation and his attention span and—“

“I do apologize if my wanting him to succeed in life seem to be criticisms.”

Once outside, they headed for the Regalia—a condition for Noctis agreeing to represent his father in these proceedings. Noctis leaned against the car, resting his arms in the hood as he waited for Ignis to unlock the door on the driver’s side. “Well, maybe you should point that out to him some day. I’m pretty sure that Prom thinks you think he’s some kind of idiot.”

Ignis thought back to his previous interactions with the boy. He supposed that some of his previous comments could be viewed as less than encouraging. He made a mental note to work on that.

“What did he want, anyway?” Noctis asked, sliding into the seat next to him.

“Hmm, he left a message. It had better have been important.” Ignis quickly dialed his voice mail and put the phone on speaker. He propped it up in one of the cup holders so it could run through the options and message while he adjusted himself and started the car.

_‘You have one new message and one saved message’ _  
__

___‘New message’ _  
___ _

 

There was nothing for a moment, and then an unfamiliar muffled voice said something, but it was far away and difficult to make out. Then loud rustling followed by silence. A few moments later the rustling started up again and there was a low murmur; two voices now. A slamming of a car door, then another, and finally a third, but more muted. Just as the unfamiliar voice started up again, the machine cut off the message. 

Noctis snickered. “Sounds like Prompto’s ass wanted to get in touch with you, Iggy.” 

Ignis was about to reply when the phone interrupted him. 

____‘Saved Message’ _  
___ _ _

This time a gentleman with a decidedly sultry tone began speaking. “Hello there, tall, bespectacled, and handsome. I would love to get together with you while you’re in town-“ 

Ignis snatched the phone up, shutting it off as heat rose to his face. 

“Holy shit, Iggggyyyy, do you have a date?!” Noctis was laughing, but not unkindly. 

Ignis cleared his throat and stared straight ahead as he started up the Regalia. “What I do in my spare time is none of your business, highness.” He put the car in reverse, using the mirrors to guide him since he did not want to take the risk of meeting his charge’s gaze. 

Regally, maturely, Nocits began to repeatedly quietly sing-song ‘Iggy’s got a daaate’ while wearing a stupid grin and staring out of the passenger window. 

Ignis let this go on for a few moments before becoming fed up. “Do not think for a moment that any of this has made me forget you fell asleep in a meeting. This will be reported to your father.”

Noctis immediately fell silent, and Ignis smiled smugly.

 

That shut him up. _ _ _  
___

 

* * *

___  
_ _ _

 Being his very best (and only) friend, Noctis enjoyed a few privileges with Prompto that the prince was more or less completely unaware of. 

For instance, Prompto used to never take photos of people. His usual style included animals, cityscapes, and the occasional weather occurrence (he had the most beautiful series of lightning storms, but that’s a story for another time) but now his walls were covered in photos of Noctis and Prompto (mostly at the prince’s insistence that he be in them as well) and even had a few of his friend’s friends. 

(Ignis was ridiculously photogenic, but he was afraid to say as much. He just took the photos and kept that information to himself, lest he alienate the adviser) 

He had also recently started forgoing his favorite snack—s’mores poptarts—in order to save more money (and calories) from his weekly allowance to get his friend a birthday present. He had his eye on quite the— 

Prompto groaned. 

Everything felt fuzzy and off and his head ached. 

One other thing that Noctis had that no other person did was his very own text tone. He was basically the only person who ever texted him, so he got the victory fanfare tone from Kings Knight. On the rare occasion that Noctis was in the same room when it went off, Prompto never neglected to cheesily quip ‘awww, we’ve just gained a level in friendship’, at which the prince never fails to laugh. They are both dorks. 

His mouth tasted like ass. He assumed. It was awful, at any rate. 

He cracked his eyes open, wincing up at the bright light that immediately assaulted him. 

The phone chimed again and he turned his head towards the sound, confused at the stranger sat across from him, holding his phone. 

No, not stranger. Fake Crownsguard. 

The green haired man had changed out of his black garb, and now wore sweat pants and a tee shirt. He stared intently down at the phone, tapping at it every few moments, frowning. 

Prompto groaned, trying to sit up, finally gaining the man’s attention. 

“What’s your password?” He asked, standing and walking over to tower above the boy. 

Prompto furrowed his brow in confusion, and the man rolled his eyes. Quickly losing patience, he reached down, grasping the freckled youth by his uniform jacket, and jerked him up. He shook him a little, repeating his question loudly before slamming him down into a nearby straight backed chair. 

When no answer was immediately forthcoming, the green haired man lashed out, backhanding the confused boy across the face. He darted a hand out as Prompto listed to the side, snatching him up by the shoulder and righting him again. “I’m not fucking playing with you, kid. What’s your six-damned password?” 

In a moment of bravery (stupidity) Prompto told the man to fuck himself, and welcomed the darkness the next punch brought.

 

* * *

 

Noctis grinned to himself when he heard Ignis leave the room next to his. He watched out the window of his lavish hotel balcony as his adviser—dressed very snappily in a gray tailored suit and dark green dress shirt and his fancy new glasses with the thick black rims—got into the Regalia and departed the parking lot. 

He’d promised the man he wouldn’t leave the room. Not that there weren’t four glaive sent along who were going to repeatedly check on him throughout the night, or anything, but Ignis knew the prince’s penchant for slipping his watchers to go out on late evening walks. So, he’d promised to stay put so that his friend could have a night out. 

He deserved it. 

Once Noctis was alone, he found the cheesiest horror movie available and retrieved his stash of candy bars. As he waited for the beginning to get less boring, he pulled out his phone to text Prompto. 

His Moodiness: Holy shit, bro, u will never guess who’s got a date!!  
(received 7:13 pm) 

His Moodiness: Fucking Ignis. With a dude no less. Didn’t know he swung that way.  
(received 7:15 pm) 

His Moodiness: Didn’t know he swung any way really.  
(received 7:21) 

His Moodiness: good 4 him tho. Maybe now he will be less up my ass. Haha. Htat wasn’t even on purpose.  
(received 7:26 pm) 

His Moodiness: yo you dead??? lolol  
(received 8:02) 

His Moodiness: Hellllooooooooooo  
(received 8:15) 

(missed call: His Moodiness 8:32 pm) 

His Moodiness: PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM PROM  
(received 8:58) 

His Moodiness: Holy shit I know you’re asleep or dead or whatever, but duuude. Iggy just got back. His giggling woke me up. GIGGLING, PROMPTO. I’m pretty sure he’s drunk and disheveled and I don’t think he’s alone. WHat is life?? You’d better ducking call me tomorrow, asshole.  
(received 2:12 am)


	2. chapter 2

When Prompto next woke, he was alone. Keeping his groaning to a minimum, he sat back up from where he’d been left on the floor, the chair was still overturned a few feet away.  
He felt around for his pocket, which was missing. Wait—what?

An eerie shiver ran through his body as he realized he was currently clothed only in his chocobo print boxers. They had taken everything else, down to his socks and wristband.

That thought alone was enough to almost make him lose it. Knowing his tattoo was on display for all to see made him feel more exposed and vulnerable than his near nakedness ever could.  
But he couldn’t lose it. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew these men meant to hurt Noctis. And he would not let that happen.

Resolve solidified, he began exploring his surroundings. There was a flickering bulb illuminating what as far as he could tell was a storage room. Random bits of furniture were scattered about; a few kitchen chairs like the one he’d fallen from were placed around a dining table that had seen better days. A red couch was shoved against one wall, the cushions stained and the stuffing leaking out.

He awkwardly made his way up on wobbly legs, stumbling to the door. It was, of course, locked. He leaned against it, bringing a shaking hand to his temple, hissing when his fingers made contact with the tight swollen skin and dried flakes of blood.

He shoved himself back off the door and finished taking inventory of the room. The lone window was too high for him to reach, and even if he could, there were bars covering the opening.

The high window and the damp chill that permeated the room told him he was probably in a basement.

The only other objects in the room were a filing cabinet—surprisingly new looking and also locked—and a small wooden crate locked with a heavy duty padlock on the top. He tried peering through the slats, but was unable to see more than a few slivers of the light that leaked through. The wood was heavy, but he determined the crate to be empty.

He slid the crate over to the wall with the window, and stacked a chair on top of it. He slowly clambered up, having to grip onto the bars to orient himself due to a sudden bout of dizziness.

He pressed his face to the opening, peering as best he could through the dirty glass beyond the iron railings. He didn’t know what he’d expected. All he could see was a patch of grass and weeds, with a small sliver of sunrise.

Definitely a basement, then.

The door behind him slammed open, startling him enough to make him lose his grip. He came down hard in a tangle of limbs and the now broken chair.

“What do you think you’re doing, you little shit!?” The green haired man dropped some bags on the table as his darker half shut the door, locking it behind them. He observed from his spot by the door as his boss strode over to the downed kid, grabbing him by his hair and one arm, shaking him loose from the pile of splintered wood and dragging him towards the table.

Prompto cried out, doing his best to dislodge the rough hands, but his brain couldn’t force his body to coordinate properly. He was yanked up and then thrown into one of the chairs that was against the wall, the back of his head smacking into the bricks.

He snatched up a length of rope from the growing pile of objects on the table, and quickly—tightly—lashed Promto’s wrists to the arms of the chair.

Fixing him with a disgusted glare, the green haired man slowly sat himself down in a chair at the table.

“Lentium, perhaps a few less blows to the head and he’d stay awake long enough to give us the information we want.

The green haired man turned his murderous eyes on his taller companion, who brushed the gaze off with a raising of his eyebrows. “I thought I said no names, Crepitus.”

“They were bound to slip at some point or another, I see no need to keep them secret. It’s not like the boy will have an opportunity to use them against us.” Crepitus—who Prompto immediately designated ‘Creepy-tus’ in his head—shrugged a shoulder and began unpacking the bags on the table.

Lentium stood again, reaching in his pants pocket and withdrawing Prompto’s phone.

“I kept this charged for you, figuring you might want to actually be something akin to helpful, today.” He pressed the button on the side, lighting up the screen.

“What the fuck is this, anyway?” He asked, flashing the screen towards Prompto. The lockscreen boasted a creature from one of his favorite shows. “This some kind of teddy bear or something?”

Prompto opened his mouth, and then closed it, looking up at the man uncertainly. As the seconds dragged on, he figured an answer was actually expected, so, face becoming redder by the moment in embarrassment, he muttered out the name of the character.

Lentium snorted and leaned forward, putting a hand to his ear in an exaggerated motion. “What was that, I can’t quite hear you.”

From the table, where he’d laid out quite the assortment of objects, Crepitus interrupted; “Is this really necessary? Just get him to put in the password.”

“No, I wanna know, now. What’s its name, kid?”

Prompto sighed, and rolled his eyes. “His name is Kero, ok? He’s from Cardcaptor Sakura, and he’s fucking awesome.”

Lentium laughed at that, shaking his head. “Isn’t that one of those cartoons?”

“Anime.” Prompto hissed, finding time to be annoyed at the man’s tone despite his situation.

“Yeah, at any rate, aren’t you like, 16? A bit too old for that shit, if you ask me.”

“Good thing I didn’t ask you, then.” Prompto didn’t know why he’d said it, and he wished his tonsils would grow ethereal arms and reach out of his mouth and grasp the words before they’d made it to the man’s ears, but it was too late. Abruptly Crepitus was laughing, Lentium was calling him names he didn’t even understand, and Prompto had blood pooling at the back of this throat from what he assumed was his now broken nose.

Ears ringing and brain reeling, his head was wrenched back by the hair and now Crepitus’s face was so close Prompto could count his acne scars and the fine hairs between his brows.

“What. Is. Your. _Fucking_. Password.”

 

* * *

 

Iris smiled sweetly up at her big brother, fully knowing she had him wrapped around her little finger. “Pleeeeease, Gladdy? Pleeeaaaaaasssse?”

Gladiolus glared down at his little sister—who looked so like their mother. It really bugged him how easily that smile and those shining eyes would make him immediately relent to her every whim. He had already brought her to the mall to do some early morning shopping, and had bought her a soft pretzel in the food court. And, right now, she wanted to see a movie. Not just any movie; a kid’s movie. Something about some lost fish. It sounded dumb and he wanted nothing more than to just go back home and enjoy the rest of his week off. But, that did not seem to be in the cards.

For this particular diplomatic mission, Noctis had opted to take a small troupe of Glaives and let his shield stay home with his family. His father was staying at the citadel more and more lately, and it was just Iris and Jared in the household most of the time.

He felt bad, not getting to spend a lot of time with her. She was growing up so fast. Before he knew it, she’d be joining the Crownsguard or something…maybe even get married….

He forced his thoughts from that path, not even wanting to think of his sister dating, much less getting married.

So, with a put upon sigh, he of gave in and was now in line to buy popcorn. Iris was happy, tittering away in her excitement; and he had a stupid warm feeling in his chest that he tried to tamp down, but was unable to ignore.

On the way through the halls to theater 7, his phone began buzzing in his pocket. Sighing, he handed the bucket of popcorn over to Iris and juggled their drinks in his arms to pull it out.

The caller ID displayed: PROMPTO

He was almost tempted to let it go to voicemail, but decided he’d pick it up. It’s not like the kid called him often, so it might be important.

He barely had out a greeting before the chipper boy began talking, his voice high and tight.

“Oh, hey Dad, I know you guys must be worried about me—‘

Gladiolus was about two words into telling him he’d dialed the wrong number, but Prompto was talking over him again.

“I’m sorry for not calling last night to let you know I was going to the citadel.”

Genuinely confused, now, Gladiolus waved Iris ahead to go pick their seats. “Prompto, what are you talking about? Are you ok? You sound weird.”

Prompto chortled nervously. A screech tore through the line; like a chair being scraped across a stone floor. “Uh, yeah, Dad, I’m totally fine. It, uhh, that is—“ the sentence trailed off in a small cough that sounded almost fake before he continued. “That is, I uhh, apparently I caught that cold or flu or whatever Noct had last week, and the Citadel doctors want to keep me quarantined for a few days. So it doesn’t spread. I, uhm, I gotta go, Dad. Love you.”

The line went dead and Gladiolus stared at his phone for a few moments. He tried dialing Prompto back, but got no answer.

Something was definitely up. He quickly dialed Ignis, figuring the adviser would know how to proceed.

 

* * *

 

Ignis’ lips curled up into a silly grin as he leaned against his hotel room door. He’d just shared coffee and room service with the most delectable man. Well, if he was being quite honest with himself, he had shared quite a few things with his gentleman caller, not the least of which was a passionate departing kiss as he slipped out the door, whispering promises of another fine evening.

Nearly giddy in the afterglow of his date, Ignis began humming to himself as he tidied up the room, replacing the ottoman to its original spot near the couch and readjusting the ficus that had at some point been knocked askew.

His warm feeling was shattered as that decidedly obtrusive tone of Prompto’s blared from his phone. Muttering to himself about possible homicide, he stalked over and snatched it up from the table.  
At least it was a text this time.

PROMPTO: Hey, mom. Everything is fine. Love you. Please don’t be mad. Had meant to call. Escaped my mind. Lol. Probably be home in a few days.

Before Ignis could fathom a response to the confusing message, his phone began vibrating in his hand. Rolling his eyes, he flopped back on the couch. Of course he wasn’t going to get to enjoy his morning.

 

* * *

 

 

It was early—too damn early—when Prompto’s particular chime echoed through the room. Noctis patted around the bed, fingers finding their way to the device. He dragged it over to his face, even that small amount of effort draining the absolute life out of him.

Once it was close enough, he hit the button to turn it on and fumbled his passcode into the device. Finally forcing one eye open, he thumbed through his alerts until he found his friend’s reply.

Golden Chocoboy: Hey, sorry about last night, I must have passed out when I got home from school. I think I caught your sickness, you jerk. I’m turning off the ringer and going down hard. Ill text you when I’m feeling better.  
(read 11:57 am)

Noctis frowned. He hadn’t been sick, lately. He brushed it off and shot a quick ‘feel better’ back to his friend and smashed a pillow over his face to block out all the damn light.

He was just drifting off when there was an insistent knock at his room door. When it became even more insistent, signifying an impatient adviser, Noctis groaned and sat up.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming, I’m coming.” Noctis rolled out of bed and shivered. He snatched the blanket from the bed and through it around his shoulders; a cloak fit for a prince.

Apparently no one wanted to let him sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please do tell me your thoughts and feelings :)


	3. chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo, this is where it REALLY starts to get violent. and it will go downhill from here, hope you all don't mind :) please heed new tags if you are a sensitive soul. Not judging, just warning. ill sit down and figure out formatting etc one day. I know, promises promises. internetting is hard when you're old. anywho, on with the story!

The broken (probably. maybe? it hurt like fuck at any rate) nose didn’t earn them his password. Neither did the black eye, the busted lip, or the swollen jaw. No, all of these abuses he took in stride.

It was the pepper spray that finally did it. After he figured out that just hitting Prompto wasn’t doing any good, Lentium stalked over to the table and had a few short words with Crepitus, who produced a small white can.

Not knowing what was happening, Prompto didn’t even think to shut his eyes as Lentium strode back over to him and without preamble began spraying the liquid nightmare into his face. Twisted screams erupted from his throat as he tried to jerk away from the spray, but the man was relentless, following him no matter where he moved his head.

After the aerosol can ran out of steam, Prompto was a whimpering moaning mess. He was sure his eyes had melted, and he could barely hitch in a solid breath. The liquid residue of the spray dripped down his face, slithering into the small bleeding splits in the skin around his eyes and lips. The sadistic Lentium only gave him a few moments of reprieve before hitting him again, the right hook working to sober him slightly while simultaneously making his world warp in a vortex of pain. The man then grabbed him by the hair, shaking his head violently.

Prompto kind of wished he had something in his stomach to throw up all over this asshole, but there was only a bit of blood that leaked down the back of his throat.

“Password!” Lentium was a blurry angry monstrosity above him and when no answer immediately came, he slapped the boy hard while maintaining his grip on the short hairs at the back of Prompto’s head.

“Password!” _Slap!_

“Password!’ _Slap!_ Spittle rained down on Prompto as his tormentor growled above him and he’d finally had enough.

“P-please!” He managed to choke out before he was hit again. “It b-burns, oh fuck it burns. Please make it stop…”

Lentium shook his head again, lifting him a little. “Password” he hissed into the boy’s face and Prompto finally stuttered out the code.

Crepitus tapped it in into the phone. He smiled. “We’re in.” He took a seat at the table and pulled out a notebook and pen, scrolling through the phone and beginning to write things down.  
Lentium finally released Prompto and went to stand behind Crepitus.

“It _burns_.” Prompto whimpered again, not having any way to relieve the sensation.

Making a show of rolling his eyes, Lentium grabbed a bottle of water from one of the unpacked bags on the table and opened it. He proceeded to unceremoniously pour it over the boy’s head, and

Prompto squirmed around, trying to let the liquid hit his eyes. What little relief it provided quickly faded after the bottle was empty and the man had gone back to his post behind Crepitus.

There were a few moments of silence then Lentium sighed in frustration, grabbing the tufts of green hair at the sides of his head. “There are no previous texts except those he got last night. Who the fuck are these people, kid?”

Prompto almost caught himself smiling. He hadn’t known what they expected to find. There were exactly seven numbers in his phone. And, thanks to Ignis’ constant litany of how important it was to keep all of his social media spotless in regards to the prince’s personal life and what little he knew of the inner workings of the citadel, he had a deep paranoia and had programmed his phone to automatically delete all previous call and text logs once a day. Even those he had gotten from Noctis the night before would disappear in a few hours.

“Well, I assume that ‘His Moodiness’ is likely the brat prince.” Crepitus stated, writing that down on the pad.

Lentium snorted and shot a glare over to Prompto. “Really, kid? ‘I’m so Gladdy he’s my Daddy’? What kind of fucked up relationship do you have with your parents?” Lentium shook his head as Crepitus continued to write.

That had actually been a joke entry by Noctis when he’d once hijacked Prompto’s phone. It made him laugh so hard when he saw it he’d left it that way.

“Mamma Hen, is obviously his mom.” The swarthy man muttered as he wrote.

“OMG Food?” Crepitus glanced up at him, but Prompto had to strain to catch his eye.

“Pizza place near my house.” Prompto groaned out, forcefully blinking his eyes several times.

“Never There?”

That one actually kind of hurt his soul a little. He’d changed it in a fit of anger a few days ago, when his mom hadn’t answered his call. For the fourth time in as many days. They didn’t need to know that, though.

“Uh, just some girl I used to know.”

“And ‘The Amazing Vanisher’?”

That one hurt less. His dad was very good at disappearing for weeks and months on end. Some days Prompto wondered that if they passed each other on the street, if they’d even know.

“Science lab partner. I always gotta do all the work.” He said, by way of explanation, hoping they would move on.

“Alright, kid, now I want you to call your parents and tell them you’re ok, and then tell the prince you’re not gonna be available for a few days. Got it?”

“Fine, but can I take my contacts out? Please? This fucking hurts.” He didn’t have any hope that they would let him do that, since it wasn’t like they were being delicate with him anyway.

But, much to his surprise Lentium let out an agreeing grunt and untied him. Prompto wasted no time in sliding the lenses out and dropping them on the floor. They were useless now, anyway.  
He then did as he was told. He called Gladiolus, talking over him quickly lest he give away that he was not, in fact, Prompto’s dad. He’d almost given it away himself when he’d hesitated and Lentium had shook the chair he was sitting in, threat clear in his demeanor.

He convinced them to let him text Mamma Hen, saying his mother would be at work now and unable to answer. Of course, he just didn’t want Ignis’ masculine voice to give anything away. They approved his messages to his ‘mom’ and Noctis and then took the phone away again. Crepitus went back to work on it, opening various apps and writing down notes of anything he found interesting.

While his partner worked, Lentium went about organizing the menagerie on the table, sorting the items into piles. Prompto didn’t want to look at them; what he had seen already didn’t sit well with him.

He leaned back carefully in his chair, trying to make the least noise possible. Neither of the other men paid him any mind, and Prompto found himself feeling rather grateful for that.

 

* * *

 

 

Noctis grumbled his way to the couch, wrapping himself in the blanket and plopping down, ready to doze again. “What do you mean something’s wrong with Prompto? He just texted me.”

Ignis frowned down at his charge. “And what did he say?”

Noctis gave a lazy half shrug. “Said he’s not feeling well and would talk to me in a few days.” He frowned a little and cast a glance at his bed, where he’d left his phone. “But he did say he caught my sickness, and I haven’t been sick, so I guess that’s kind of weird.”

“That’s what Gladio said, too, but that Prompto had told him he was being quarantined at the citadel, and he kept referring to Gladio as his father.”  
Noctis quirked an eyebrow at him. “Well, that’s definitely weird.”

“Hmm, quite. And then there’s this.” Ignis pulled out his own phone, handing it over.

Noctis reread the message, and then handed the phone back over. “Maybe he’s just playing some kind of prank?”

Ignis let out an aggravated breath and forced the device back into the prince’s hand. “You don’t notice anything else strange besides him referring to me as his mother?”

Noctis dutifully read the message again, this time trying to dissect it. “Wait,” he muttered, biting his lip a little. “The capital letters….they spell out ‘help’. Twice.”

Ignis nodded, his expression grim. “I tried to replay the message I got from him yesterday, but am still unable to discern what is being said. I have a friend coming by to assist with the deciphering.”

Under normal circumstances, Noctis would poke fun at Ignis like an annoying little brother since he figured his ‘friend’ was likely his date from last night, but he was too concerned now.

They sat in silence for a while, Ignis staring back at his phone. He bit his lip, and then began typing out a message.

“What are you doing?” Noctis asked, peering over at the screen.

“Letting Prompto know that we know something is amiss. Assuming he will get the message, anyway.”

 

* * *

 

They were eating lunch, those bastards.

Prompto glared at them with all his might; which at this point was not much. He was sure he struck quite the pathetic figure. He sat limply in the chair, a steady ringing in his left ear driving him just a little bit insane. The burning sensation from the pepper spray had dulled, but was still ever present in the background of his various hurts.

He was somehow hungry (he was always hungry) but he knew better than to ask for anything. But the burgers smelled so good.

Those bastards.

When they were finished, Crepitus gathered their trash and headed towards the door. As he got near Prompto, he wordlessly held out the soda cup he’d been drinking from. Uncertainly, Prompto reached up for it, but the man pulled it back a little, making a disapproving noise. Prompto dropped his hands into his lap again, looking from Crepitus to Lentium and back again.

Crepitus smiled down at him and held out the cup again, the straw pointing towards Prompto’s face.

He licked his lips. They were chapped and bloody and burning where the pepper spray had drifted down. He leaned forward and began to drink.

There wasn’t much left, just watered down root beer, but he drank it greedily.

When he had loudly made sure every drop of liquid was gone, Crepitus pulled the cup away and patted his blond head.

“I knew you could be a good boy.” He winked and then turned away, heading out and locking the door behind him.

So far, Prompto decided, that was the most terrifying thing to happen to him since this whole ordeal began. He stared at the closed door, shivering in the cold damp air.

Abruptly, the silence was shattered by Prompto’s standard text tone. Lentium nearly dropped the device at the sudden sound, and he started jabbing at the volume button, swearing a little bit.

Lentium read the message and then caught Prompto’s eye over the top of his phone. “Your mom said she talked to your dad and that she’s glad you’re ok. Hopes you feel better soon, and that she

cancelled her business trip so she could be home when they release you.”

Lentium smiled meanly at Prompto. “She does sound like one of those mother hen types. She seems like a nice lady.”

Prompto nodded slowly. “She really is.”

“Good, then. Don’t make me send you home to her in pieces. Ready for round two?”

No. No he was not. But of course that didn’t matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the shorter chapter, I will make it up with the next one :)
> 
> PS I LOVE MSCHIVIOUS! SHE IS RAD AND AMAZING AND NOW I CAN ITALICIZE ALL THE THINGS!


	4. chapter 4

Iris frowned up at her brother. He’d been quiet ever since he’d gotten that phone call at the movies. He hadn’t complained about the film once the whole way through, and kept annoying the other patrons with constantly checking the device.

Now they were almost home, and he’d said barely two words to her this whole time. She punched him lightly in the shoulder, gaining his attention momentarily before he went back to staring glumly through the windshield. “So what’s got you down, Gladdy? Is everything ok? You have your worried face on.”

Gladiolus rolled his eyes. “I don’t have a worried face.”

Iris huffed out a cute little laugh. “Sure you do. You only get those funny lines between your eyebrows when you’re worried or pissed.”

“Don’t say pissed, Iris.”

“You say pissed.”

“That’s not the—“ he rolled his eyes again, deciding to let the subject drop. “I think a friend of mine may be in trouble.”

She straightened up a bit in her seat. “It’s not Noct, is it?” Concern crept in her voice, making it quake just a little at the end.

Gladiolus shook his head. “Nah, it’s Prompto.”

“Oh.” She said, then bit her lip. “Which one is that?”

“The skinny blond one. Got all the freckles.” Gladiolus said off handedly, slowing and pulling into the driveway of the Amicitia manor house.

“Oh,” she nodded, “the one who takes all the pictures? He’s funny.”

The warrior pulled the car to a stop, but didn’t remove his hands from the wheel. “Yeah. Yeah he is. Good kid. Anyway, I hate to do this to you, but I need to go look for him.”

Iris knew she was being dismissed, but she didn’t budge; didn’t even move to take off her seatbelt. “What kind of trouble is he in? Maybe I can help.”

Gladiolus wiped a hand down his face, side-eyeing his sister, who smiled. The little minx. “Iris…”

“ _Gladdy_ ,” she returned, “we both know how this is going to go. You’re gonna try to make me go in the house while you go have an adventure—“

He tried to cut her off. “It could be dangerous—“

“And then you’ll give me reasons not to go, and I’ll remind you that not only can I take care of myself pretty well, but I will also be with my very own big brother, who is the toughest guy ever—“

“ _Iris_ —“

“Aaaand, you’re gonna give in. You know you are. So let’s skip all the other stuff and get to helping your friend. Ok?”

Silence reigned in the black towncar.

Gladiolus refused to meet her eyes as he put the car in gear and headed back away from the house.

He was relatively sure she was at least half daemon.

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t long before Crepitus came back, this time holding a piece of wood about four inches thick and two feet by two feet. He dropped it on the ground, the resounding crash making Prompto jump a little in his chair. The swarthy man dropped a tool box down next to it, and then motioned for Prompto to stand.

He did so unsteadily, the ringing in his ear worsening. The world tilted to the left a little, and he had to throw out his arms to maintain his balance. He held a few beats, waiting for equilibrium to be restored before deeming himself able to shuffle the few feet to where Crepitus stood waiting.

Prompto really wasn’t sure what their game was at this point. What did they really expect to get out of him?

He stepped onto the piece of wood as directed and waited. His upper arms were suddenly gripped from behind, and he panicked a little, not having heard the other man come up behind him. He relaxed marginally as he realized Lentium was there to hold him still. Or, probably more accurately, hold him up.

Crepitus sat on the floor directly in front of Prompto and pulled out a hammer, nails and four brackets; two were U shaped, and curled up on themselves on the two ends, and had an L shaped anchor sticking straight out from the bottom of the U. These he fitted around the back of Prompto’s ankles, the anchor running up the backs of them. He slid the other larger brackets into the curls, and this part went over the tops of the boy’s pale feet. Prompto watched him work, doing his best not to flinch as he beat the pieces into the wood.

As he finished, Prompto vaguely mused that it looked like the man had hammered him into a pair of sandals; if those sandals shared one big-ass wooden sole and basically immobilized his legs unless he was to hop everywhere. Which he probably shouldn’t do with what he suspected was a concussion. At least he thought it was a concussion. He’d had one when he was twelve and had hit his head on a low tree branch, not paying attention to where he was going when he first started running.

That was hard; the running. One of the hardest things he’d ever done in his life in fact— Uh oh. One of them was talking, and he sounded angry.

Prompto did his best to remember the question he didn’t hear being asked, and came up with nothing. He blinked a few times at the tall dark man in front of him, and very loudly asked “What now?”

“I asked if you think you can stand by yourself for a few minutes? Lentium needs to leave us for a while, and I’m not quite ready for the rest of it.”

Prompto shook his head slowly. “The rest of what?”

Crepitus ignored his question and waved impatiently at the man holding him up. He was let go, and after a few alarming seconds, Prompto got his bearings and was able to keep the world around him more or less level. Somewhere behind him a door slammed and in the immediate vicinity, another person was humming. He could barely hear it over the ringing in his ear, and it somehow annoyed him even more.

“Could you stop that?” He asked, again, way too loudly.

Crepitus had taken a seat at the table, and was currently taking a knife sharpener to more brackets like the ones the covered the tops of his feet. “Stop what?” He asked, not bothering to look up.

Prompto held his head in his hands, his temple throbbing in time to the pulses of nausea in his stomach. “The humming. It’s annoying.”

Crepitus smiled vaguely. “That’s you, but I don’t mind if you want to keep doing it.”

“Oh.” Prompto said, thinking hard about it. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t get the humming to stop. He decided it may be better to talk over it.

“You’re different from your friend.”

Crepitus was quiet for long moments, continuing to study the bracket in his hands, testing its edges. “Yes. I am quite different.” He finally agreed, setting the bracket aside and picking up another.

The freckled boy swallowed hard, thinking back to the soda incident earlier. “But… you’re not better than him, are you?”

This earned him a smile and a conspiratorial wink. “Oh, no, I’m far far worse.”

Prompto went back to humming.

 

* * *

 

 

Though he wanted nothing more than to drop everything and charge back to Insomnia, Noctis had his responsibilities as prince to attend to.

Luckily, he had Ignis, who was amazing at everything always.

The adviser had gotten his remaining meetings moved up to all take place over that evening and the following day, and travel arrangements rescheduled so they could leave directly after the last negotiation.

They had just entered the lobby of the hotel, coming in from the final meeting of that day, when a suave looking man a little shorter than Ignis approached them. He paused, but did not appear nervous when he was suddenly set upon by two of Noctis’ Crownsguard. He was dressed in a gray suit with a plain white tee as the shirt, and had his dark hair pulled back into one of those fashionable ‘man-buns’, yet somehow pulled it off without looking douchey. He carried a large leather case and everything about him screamed effortlessness. When he spoke, his voice was deep and carried a similar accent to Ignis’, but was stronger, more pronounced. “Hello, my name is Adam.”

Ignis cleared his throat. “Hm, yes, your highness, this is the friend come to help us with that electronics problem we were having. Adam, this is Prince Noctis. Please, accompany us upstairs.

Noctis nodded, waving to the guards to stand down. Nothing more was said as they all rode the elevator up again. A quick check was done of the Prince’s rooms, then he, Adam, and Ignis were left alone as the guards went to their own quarters.

Adam stole a quick kiss from Ignis before striding over to the coffee table to begin unloading his equipment. Noctis did not miss how his advisers cheeks pinkened beneath his glasses, but he managed to seem otherwise unruffled.

Noctis left the two to chat as they set up, going into the small kitchenette to fix himself a drink. He stayed in there, leaning up against the counter, reviewing his messages. They had decided not to involve anyone else until they’d figured out what exactly was going on. Since he was the only one still in town, Gladiolus was attempting to gain surveillance footage from the high school.

The only thing they’d found out so far is that Prompto had apparently been pulled out of class by members of the Crownsguard. He’d gotten a vague description, but was currently waiting for the security people to find all the video from the various halls and grounds.

Ignis had pulled a few threads and was able to account for all the members, so they were sure that they had to be impersonators. But, until they got the footage, there was literally nothing more they knew.

Noctis hated feeling useless. It burned in him, deep inside; a dark pit of inadequacy. It was watching his father grow weaker from the Crystal’s brutal pull. It was watching the Marlith kill his caretaker and bodyguards. Things he desperately wanted to stop, but had no power over.

Biting his lip, he started flipping through his pictures, letting the gentle murmur from the living room lull him to calmness. He stopped at a picture of he and Prompto at the arcade after having come in fourth in a skeeball tournament. Prompto was cheesing like they’d taken home the trophy, and embracing Noctis in an overly tight side hug. The prince was grinning at his stupid friend.

His eyes burned with unshed tears.  He was so _fucking_ useless.

He was sorely tempted to leave right then and there, but Ignis was right; there was nothing they could do.

“Noct, come along. We’ve got the recording set up.”

The prince finished his glass of water, leaving the glass by the sink.

Prompto had been taken from third period. He’d been in the hands of who knew who for over 24 hours, now. What did they want?

Ignis called to him again.

Noctis gazed at the photo a moment longer before shoving the phone back in his pocket and heading into the living room. He perched on the arm of the couch, feet in the seat next to Ignis, hands on his knees.

“Alright, so I have run this through a few programs to clear out background noise, and I believe this is probably as clean as we’re going to get it.” Adam hit a button on the keyboard and leaned back.

The message was quiet at first, just some static and a horn honking in the distance. Then, a gruff voice spoke up: “Now why couldn’t you just come quietly, eh kid?” followed by the clear sounds of struggle. Noctis had to keep himself still as he recognized Prompto’s muted cries, which died down to whimpers and faded all together in the span of a minute. The voice spoke again, “…didn’t go down as easy as I thought.” the slamming of a car door startled Noctis a little, so intent was he on the voices. “Yes,” the next voice agreed; this one smoother than his counterpart. “He’s got spirit.” Two other two doors slammed, and just as the machine cut the message off, the second voice said quietly; reverently:

“I’ll enjoy breaking it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, this is considered the tame chapter, the eye of the storm if you will. Shit gets serious soon, dudes.


	5. chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeeeyyyyyyy....soooo.....here it is.....i'm not nervous or anything. not nervous at all. This is just the tip of the horrific iceberg I am driving this ship into. *dont' try this at home, kids*

Ignis frowned as he tallied up what the hotel would likely charge them for the broken dishes. He wisely chose not to say anything to his prince, however.

Once the recording had ended, Noctis had made Adam play it again, listening even more intently for something—anything—that would tell them who these men were and what exactly they wanted from his friend, but there was nothing.

Just as he was making Adam play it for a third time, Ignis’ phone chimed his email alert. It was a video file from Gladiolus. He forwarded it to Adam who began loading it on the display. Ignis read aloud the message from the shield:

_You find these fuckers, Iggy. You find out who they are and I will **kill** them._

Under normal circumstances, Noctis would have laughed at Ignis using a curse word. Hell, under normal circumstances, Ignis probably wouldn’t have said it aloud, however the moment seemed to call for it. Noctis slid down in the seat next to his adviser and took his hand. Ignis squeezed it reassuringly.

Adam started the video, and sat back, giving the other two more room to watch. I

t had been hastily edited together and there was no audio. Though the video was grainy, it was still easy to make out the features of the two men strolling through the front doors of the school in their fraudulent Crownsguard gear. They exchanged a few words with security, who spoke into a walkie-talkie, and then directed them. The next shot showed them standing outside of Noctis’ and Prompto’s history classroom, as they spoke with someone inside. A few seconds went by, and then Prompto came out of the class all nervous smiles and energy.

“Noctis…” Ignis said quietly as the prince leaned in closer to the screen.

The next few shots were of them walking through the halls, stopping at Prompto’s locker, then heading towards the side exit of that wing.

“Noctis…” The adviser tried again, tugging at his hand that was held in a deathgrip by the prince.

The angles from the cameras outside were higher, and they could no longer make out their faces. But, they could see the exact moment when Prompto figured out something was wrong and tried to make his escape. Noctis’ breaths came out in ragged shallow huffs as they watched them subdue his best friend; as the tall swarthy man held Prompto still while the other took his phone and then reached forward to pinch his nose shut to deny the boy air; continued to do this for long moments after he finally went limp.

“ _Noctis_!” Ignis nearly shouted, finally ripping the prince’s attention away from the computer screen. He glared at his adviser for long moments, midnight eyes filled with sorrow.

Calmer, quieter, Ignis nodded down to their entwined hands. “You’re hurting me.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Noctis let go of his hand and looked back at the screen in time to see them dump Prompto into the back seat of a blue sedan and then take off.

The prince very calmly stood, and wordlessly went into the kitchen and proceeded to break every single thing made of glass he could find, eyes flashing burgundy as his rage tried to access powers not yet honed.

Ignis opened the door for the Crownsguard before they burst through, and quickly explained that all the noise was, in fact, the prince, and there was no need to kill Adam, or anyone else. They left, muttering, as Noctis finally ran out of things to break. He slid to the floor and wept amongst the shattered glass.

 

* * *

 

 

Lentium came back just as Prompto finally lost his battle with standing upright, crumpling to the ground groaning. His feet, being trapped on the large heavy board, stayed firmly planted, so he laid there, knees in the air and arms spread out to either side. Lentium snorted and stepped over him, dropping his new set of bags on the table. He turned back to Prompto and nudged him with his foot. “Back on your feet, boy.”

Prompto licked the roof of his mouth; it felt thick, as if coated in slime, yet so so dry at the same time. “Nah, I th-think I’m good here. You guys, uhm, just let me know when you need me. Kay?”

Lentium looked as if he was about to say something, but Crepitus spoke up, first. “Actually, I think it’s time to ask a few more questions, what do you think?”

“Yeah, I have one.” Prompto lazily lifted an arm straight above him and waved it before flopping it back on the floor. “Whaddyou guys want from me? I’m just some stu-stupid kid. I don’t know anything.”

Lentium ignored him, reaching down and gripping him by the arms, levering him back to his feet. He then wrapped an arm around Prompto’s waist and bodily lifted him, carrying him closer to the table and finally shoving him into a chair, pushing the board with his feet still attached under the table.

Crepitus gave him that small secret smile again; the one that made Prompto’s skin crawl. “I’m sure you know more than you think you do. For instance, you have insight into the personality of the prince; probably the only person in the entire kingdom that does, as you are one of the few people he calls ‘friend’. _Yes_ ,” his voice grew soft and his strange light eyes narrowed, “you are definitely going to prove very useful. Under the right conditions, of course.”

Prompto nodded and folded his arms on the table, resting his chin on top of his wrists.

“For instance, I would like you to now tell me everything you can about these photos.” Crepitus dropped two glossy sheets on the table in front of Prompto.

He lifted his head and studied them for a few moments. “Well,” he smiled sourly at the man in front of him, “I can tell your photographer’s shit. Probably has a shaky hand; no eye for composition.”

Lentium, who had not moved from his spot behind Prompto grasped his sweaty blond locks and reared his head up and back, then down again forcefully, driving his chin into the tabletop and his throat against the edge. He released the boy just as quick, and Prompto was left seeing red and gasping in wet sputters.

“Thought you learned to stop fucking with us, kid.” Lentium growled above him. “You must be some sort of stupid.”

Once Prompto regained some of his composure, he turned back towards the photos and studied them a few moments. He figured there really wasn’t much he could tell them about what he was seeing that wasn’t already basically public knowledge.

“This one,” he pointed to the left, “is of Noct and his adviser Ignis. Uhm, looks like they are in the Citadel gardens…..wait, how’d you get a picture of them in the gardens?”

Lentium smacked the back of his head and told him it was none of his business.

“Tell me more about this adviser.” Crepitus asked as Prompto leaned back and rubbed at his throat some more. That had hurt. “Uhm, man I dunno. Ignis is Ignis. He’s smart and like knows everything about everything always. He’s nice, I guess, I don’t really talk to him much. Makes kick ass food, though.”

Crepitus pursed his lips and nodded. “How often is he with Noctis? Are there times, other than when he is in school, that he is not with the prince?” Prompto shook his head. “Ignis is pretty much always with Noct.”

“What else can you tell me about him? What forms of combat is he trained in? What weapons does he carry? What does he do in his spare time?”

Prompto furrowed his brow at the man. “I told you already; I barely know the guy. You nabbed the wrong kid if you want information.”

Crepitus waved to Lentium to stop doing whatever he was about to do, for which Prompto was grateful. Instead, the swarthy man pointed to the other photo, tapping the top edge twice expectantly.

Dutifully, Prompto looked at the page. “That’s, ahhh, that’s Noctis and his shield. Family name Amicitia, I think. Looks like they are, uhm, outside of the school.” He looked up uncertainly at Crepitus, who stared coolly back at him. “He's Noct’s body guard. Big guy. Smart. Could definitely kick both your asses.”

Creptius regarded him for a few long moments before Lentium told him to get on with it.

“One thing you will find out about me, boy,” Crepitus slowly rose from his seat, keeping his eyes locked onto Prompto, “is that I don’t appreciate being lied to.” He circled around the table and made a gesture to Lentium, who pulled Prompto’s chair out and swung it and him around to face the taller man. “Another thing you will find out about me is that I am quite different from my friend, here, as we were talking about earlier.” His hand flashed up and across Prompto’s face in one quick, hard, lightning move that left his other ear ringing.

“Lentium is all quick pain and fast results, but as you and I both know, that doesn’t always get him what he wants. See? Already the hurt from that slap is diminishing, little more than a slight stinging sensation among myriad other little pains. Though it may leave a bruise behind, unless you are actively touching it—“ here he reached forward and wrapped his long fingers around the left side of Prompto’s face and then slowly pressed his thumb into swollen skin at his temple harder and harder until the boy whimpered in pain—“….I see you understand my point. Eventually, assuming you live, this will all fade away to yellowed skin and small bits of scarring. Something you could forget, or push away in time.”

Prompto couldn’t help but cower back against the chair as the larger man leaned down, resting his hands on the arms on the wooden chair. He practically nuzzled his lips next to Prompto’s ear. “What I have in mind for you…will be something you will never forget. The scars I will leave you with will be so _so_ much deeper than anything your flesh could bear.” He straightened back up and stepped away, and Lentium drug Prompto’s chair back over to the table. The green haired man then gripped Prompto’s left arm tightly, forcing him to lay it straight out on the table in front of him. He pulled the chair back until only about three quarters of his arm was on the table; the edge coming half way between his elbow and armpit.

Crepitus picked up one of the larger brackets from the table and fitted it over Prompto’s arm just above his elbow. He hammered it in place and moved down to his wrist, doing the same with a smaller bracket.

“What’s this?” Lentium asked, tapping at the barcode tattoo on Prompto’s right wrist.

“I dunno.” Prompto replied, shaking his head slightly. When he tested the brackets on his left arm, he found they bit into his skin; not enough to draw blood…not at this pressure at any rate. But he was sure if he tried to jerk out of them, he would not come away unscathed.

“What do you mean, you don’t know? You’re the one who got it done, right?”

Prompto flinched, but said nothing as his tattoo was covered by the bracket which was also hammered into the table. Luckily Lentium let it go and stood behind him as his upper arm was fitted and hammered down as well. In this position, Prompto could not properly lift his head up, and he was forced to strain his neck to keep watch on Crepitus. He let out a startled squawk when Lentium pulled the chair out from under him, arms jerking painfully in their restraints. He caught his balance just barely, as he managed to drag the board with his feet attached back a few inches so he could regain his balance on his legs.

“This is called a ‘stress position’. Probably you are already feeling your muscles in your lower back and upper thighs start to tremble and burn. But, if you squat down, you will put too much pressure on your arms and may dislocate them both at the shoulders; not to mention you would then be quite literally flaying the flesh from your bones.” He sauntered around the back of Prompto, but the boy was concentrating too hard on staying upright to watch him.

Crepitus clucked his tongue in disapproval. “This won’t do at all.” Slowly, painfully, Crepitus began to nudge the board forward until Prompto’s body was curved in an awkward C shape and his feet were almost aligned with his elbows. He kept as still as possible, his breathing harsh and shallow. There was literally no way he could move that would alleviate the raging fire that was now his lower back and thighs. Within moments his body began to tremble and his body somehow found liquid to bring stingingly to his eyes, despite his dehydration.

“Much better.” Crepitus wedged something beneath the board that kept it stationary so Prompto would not be able to adjust it again. He stood again and continued to make noises and shuffle about, but Prompto just rested the tip of his forehead against the table and tried to keep his shaking to a minimum.

“Now,” the smooth voice came from in front of him, “it is time for you to be properly punished for lying to me.” That got the boy to attempt to lift his head, and he was barely able to raise his gaze to meet that of his tormentor’s. “Wh-wha..?”

Rage flashed across the swarthy man’s features and his strange light eyes looked like liquid silver in his anger. “ **LIES OF OMMISION ARE STILL LIES**.” Crepitus’ voice rose and soared around the room like thunder.

He thrust a photo in Prompto’s face; this one of himself and Gladiolus at the local dog park. They had been out for a run and had paused for a rest on a bench. Prompto was perched on the back railing with his feet in the seat, but still somehow seemed shorter than the warrior that sat next to him. They both wore easy smiles and it looked like he was handing his water bottle to the shield.

Then, another photo took its place, this one of himself and Ignis in a tea shop, where the adviser had graciously not judged his choice of hot chocolate, nor made fun of his inability to pronounce the name of the tea the bespectacled man had chosen.

“You know these men, and you will tell me _everything_. **EVERYTHING**.” Crepitus paused in his tirade, coming back to himself slowly.

“Now, you must be punished. I will leave that to Lentium.” He shuffled closer, and ran his long thick fingers through Prompto’s hair.

He hummed to himself a little as he repeated the action, letting his hand linger on the boy’s forehead. “I think you might be getting a fever. Not surprising. Looks like some of your cuts are starting to fester. Do try and be a good boy, and I might bring you something to help you keep your strength up.” He ran his fingers through the blond hair once more, and then allowed them to travel down the skin of his back, laughing when Prompto tried to jerk from the touch, only succeeding in having the brackets trapping his arms bite viciously into his skin.

The room was silent for a beat after Crepitus closed the door softly behind himself, but Lentium wasted no time. The man let out a sinister giggle.

“When I was your age, I was a mouthy little fuck, too. Never did what my old man told me; always had some smart shit to say.”

Prompto trembled as the man’s boots scraped the concrete near him. He lifted his head as much as he could, trying to spy what the man was doing. Lentium sorted through objects on the far end of the table before his eyes lit up. He caught Prompto’s gaze and winked at him.

“My old man was no slouch in the disciplinary department, if you know what I mean. I remember the last time I disobeyed him. I was…I dunno.. seventeen maybe. Stole his fucking car, and crashed it in a ditch. Ooh, when he caught _meee_ ……” He trailed off, a strange smile on his face. While he spoke, he lifted a long leather belt and wrapped it around his right hand, letting the end dangle down a few feet.

“Hmm, I still have a few scars from that day. He beat me till I couldn’t walk. Left my lying in the floor for days, and when I could finally move the first thing he made me do was clean up the mess that lying in one spot for three days would cause.” He circled around to stand behind Prompto.

“But I did learn one very important lesson. You wanna know what it was, kid?”

He took the freckled boy’s silence as affirmation.

“I learned to—“ a sharp whistle rent the air and the leather laid into his lower back right over his already aching muscles—“STOP—“ another lash landed, drawing a muted scream when Prompto bit through his bottom lip—“FUCKING—“ the next blow caused his knees to buckle and he was forced to scramble back to his previous position—“WITH—“ Prompto’s shoulders screamed as they were struck—“HIM!” He continued to strike him with the belt till he ran out of steam and Prompto had gone horse from screaming.

Lentium chuckled darkly and tossed the belt to the ground near Prompto’s feet. “Now maybe you will learn something, too.”

As the door behind him slammed shut Prompto shamelessly began to cry.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter; more torture, possibly some REASONS and/or MOTIVES, and Inspector Iris is on the case! This author DEF DID NOT let this story get out of hand and TOTALLY KNOWS WHERE IT IS GOING. We are not flying by the seats of our pants. We are having fun picking on Prompto, though. Till next time! Stay brutal.


	6. chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the tags, they are a changin'. Please heed them. Ok, so I know in my last one I kind of skirted around this very subject, but this is like my first time writing any kind of actual sexual content, consensual or otherwise. This is otherwise. Obviously, not condoned, but hey, I've seen much worse and crazy on here. It's pretty low key as far as these things go. ::hides forever::

Iris sat on Gladiolus’ bed, replaying the video on her laptop.

Her brother was on the floor, trying to push-up his anger away.

As they’d left the school it had been among much muttering of incompetence and beefing up security and making sure the school officials knew who the members of the Crownsguard were. Gladiolus had damaged the doors on the way out, throwing a fist into the metal frame while looking pointedly at the security guard who had directed the men towards his friend. No one said anything to him about it, and Iris was sure that the Crown would be seeing a bill for the damage.

Ignis had texted Gladiolus about an hour before, telling him about some melt down the prince that left Noctis a ‘literal bloody sobbing mess’. The adviser had cancelled all the rest of the meetings and they were heading out first thing in the morning. Since then the big warrior had been huffing and puffing away at different exercises.

Her computer wasn’t much, but Iris was doing her best to help. She had managed to enlarge stills from the video to get a better look at the men. “Hey, Gladdy, I think I know this guy.”

He paused at full rise, turning his head slightly towards her. “What do you mean?”

She bit her lip, studying the image of the green haired man. “I dunno. I can’t quite place him, but I _know_ I know him from somewhere.”

Gladiolus grunted, lumbering to his feet. “Well if you figure it out, enlighten me, yeah?”

“Yeah.” She groaned exaggeratedly, flopping back into the pillows. “What do you think they want with Prompto, anyway? It’s not like he’s someone important.”

Gladiolus frowned down at her. “Prompto is important.”

She smiled sheepishly at him. “You know what I mean. He doesn’t work for the Citadel or Noctis. It’s not like he’ll know military secrets or anything. What’s the point in grabbing him? It’d make way more sense to take you or Ignis. Especially Ignis. He probably knows more about everything than just about everyone.”

Gladiolus sighed dramatically and dropped down on the bed beside his sister. “Yeah, but the Crown knows that. Which is why Ignis is always under watch, even when he doesn’t know it. Besides the king and Noct, he’s got the most security, plus he’s pretty good at defending himself, too. Whereas Prompto…”

“Probably doesn’t know much, but is a lot easier to take.” Iris finished for him.

“And Noct is close enough to him that he might even be able to get used as leverage or bait. I mean, look at what’s already happening; they cut the trip short by three days to get back here faster. We’re already playing into their hands, whoever they are.” He flopped back on the bed, and Iris had to snatch up her computer to keep it from getting squashed. She scowled at him, then scooted back, sitting it between them, hunkering down to study the face of the green haired man again.

Gladiolus continued talking, but she was so focused, the words kind of droned in and out. “….Noct’s so fucking worked up…Gonna have to teach that kid how to defend himself…all over….I’m gonna kill them….Fuck, Noct is probably gonna kill them….godsdamned prince is gonna lose his shit…better make it through this….”

Iris focused in on his eyes. She _knew_ she knew him. From somewhere…

 

* * *

 

It was a six-fucking eternity later when the door to Prompto’s personal hell opened again.

Prompto trembled, trying not to move. Blood trailed down from around the brackets restraining him to the table, forming quite decent puddles beneath his appendages. His shoulders ached and burned while he was fairly certain that the tip of his spine was working its way through the thin flesh at the small of his back. His legs and rear were protesting like he’d run five back to back marathons. His dehydration had caused him to stop being able to form tears hours ago, but his body still went through the motions.

Both remained silent as Crepitus shuffled about the room, rearranging things on the table. Prompto didn’t have the energy or strength to lift his head to find out what he was up to.

Eventually Crepitus crept up behind him and ran his long fingers over the raised flesh marring the pale expanse of Prompto’s back, smiling softly to himself. Lentium had done a beautiful job.

As he continued to caress the lash marks—parallel lines of pink and purple and stretches of raised warm flesh—he grinned broadly. Dried blood flaked off as he pressed his fingers harder against the spaces where the swollen skin had split, eliciting the sweetest moans of displeasure…

He slowly stepped back, admiring the twisted trembling form before him. “It is three in the morning. I have now had you in my possession for almost two days. You have revealed very little to me, which is surprising. I thought you would be weaker. I thought the beatings would break you. Even now, as your muscles and bones must scream for relief, you remain mostly silent. I have seen hardened warriors not last half as long before they begged; before they revealed their secrets.”

Crepitus strode forward again, this time standing next to the freckled boy, prodding the bloody flesh beneath the bracket on his right arm. “However, I am quite skilled at what I do, and have more tactics to try. The first is a bargain; If you do exactly as I say, you may get through the next few hours with no new bruises. If you are extra good, I may even provide you with a small meal.”

Prompto managed a weak disbelieving noise.

Ignoring him, Crepitus pressed on. “You will answer my questions without hesitation and without sass. Do you understand?”

Prompto coughed out a brittle laugh. “I already…tole you. I don’t know anything. An, if…if I did, I wouln’t tell you anyways.”

“You would prefer to stay as you are? Surely after four hours, you must be ready to give up.”

Prompto made the strange coughing/laugh noise again. “Nah, bro. I….I can stay like this all day. I...got n-nothing to say.” Prompto was amused on some level that his statement had so many rhyming parts, but that was probably the slight delirium the growing fever was causing.

Crepitus clucked his tongue disapprovingly. “Your window for accepting this offer is closing, and I will move on to the next tactic. Please do take into consideration your hunger and thirst. You will not be able to keep your strength if you do not receive food and water.”

“Y-you have no idea how…strong I am.” Prompto muttered.

Crepitus crooked half a grin. “It’s no matter. I will break you, one way or another. Now,” he sauntered up behind the boy and hooked a finger into the waistband of the his boxers. “The window is closed. I will not offer another deal to you until noon tomorrow.” He slowly slid the fabric down and heedless of the biting restraints, Prompto struggled and jerked, trying to free himself as everything was laid bare.

Crepitus caressed his back again, allowing his long nails to dig in along the ridges of raised flesh. This time, he trailed down to squeeze the soft flesh of Prompto’s ass. “So, for the next nine hours, everything that happens will be to no other end than my pleasure and your pain; which honestly, are somewhat intertwined.”

He was released briefly as Crepitus removed his shoes and pants, whistling softly as he nudged his already hard cock against Prompto’s tight asshole.

Prompto was a virgin…well mostly. He’d exchanged some messy oral sex with a girl near the end of his freshmen year in highschool, and had given a grand total of six blowjobs to two different boys on his track team so (he’d done them both at once just a few weeks ago, but had yet to talk either boy into returning the favor; he generally ended up finishing himself off in the shower afterwards (usually thinking of Noctis or Ignis or Noctis and Ignis, but he barely admits that to himself (and no, Prompto does not consider himself loose or bad; just young and experimental))) but strictly speaking he’d never had either penetrative vaginal or anal sex of any sort.

As he realized this was about to change, and not in a fun way, he tried his hardest to concentrate on the face of the boy from the track team he liked better; his beautiful green eyes and short curly red hair and the smattering of freckles so much like Prompto’s own. But he knew that boy would never grip his hip in a bruising hold; he would not shove into Prompto unprepared or laugh at the broken cries that issued from his throat. He would not wrap his long fingers around Prompto’s neck as he rode him, or call him a stupid whore. Garbage. Worthless.

When he’d been on his knees for the red headed boy, the fingers curled in his hair had been firm but gentle, helping him keep rhythm. Crepitus’ were possessive and angry, yanking hard at his neck as he thrust harder and harder, nearing his climax.

Crepitus drew himself out to the tip and slammed himself back in several times, his large cock sliding in and out more easily now that Prompto’s body had expanded to accommodate it. He splayed his fingers on the back of Prompto’s head sliding his fingers up so he could grasp the hair at the top of his head and yank his head back impossibly far. Prompto found himself staring directly at his phone, set up to record on a small tripod.

“Smile for the camera.” Crepitus whispered as he thrust in deeply one last time, holding their position as he emptied his seed inside of Prompto.

Prompto was held like that for several moments, face to face with his phone as Crepitus pulled out and blood and semen slowly leaked down his legs. When he was finally let go, Prompto leaned his forehead against the edge of the table and tried not to shudder as the man reached down and pulled his boxers back up, snapping the elastic around the boy’s narrow waist.

“Well,” Crepitus said, almost sounding jovial, “I don’t know about you, but I worked up quite the appetite.” He slapped Prompto almost playfully on the ass and then sat in the chair nearest him at the table, unwrapping a sandwich and opening a soda. He enjoyed his meal thoroughly, watching Prompto attempt to hold himself together.

This was turning out to be much more rewarding than he originally thought.

 

* * *

 

Gladiolus had not slept.

He had laid in bed, he’d closed his eyes, but he had not slept.

So, when Iris knocked on his door at six in the morning, he was already up and pacing so he let her in without his usual gruff utterances.

“I think I figured it out! The homeless center!”

Gladiolus folded his arms across his chest, waiting for her to continue.

She was carrying her laptop under her arm and set it up on his desk, pulling up the enlarged photo of the green haired man. “You know, I volunteer there on the weekends sometimes, and I’m pretty sure that’s where I’ve seen him. There’s this bunch of guys, his age and a little older, that kind of sit together and cause a problem. They do not like the king or the fact that so many refugees have been coming into the city. A few of them have been banned from the place, but he’s not a permanent resident, I don’t think. I mean, I’ve only seen him a few times, but he kind of stands out.”

Gladiolus grinned down at his sister and swept her up in a hug. “Iris, you are a genius!”

“I know, I know,” she laughed, “now put me down and let’s get going!”

 

* * *

 

Ignis had not slept, either.

And he could have thought of a thousand things he would have liked to do till the wee hours in the morning with Adam; but alas though they shared the same room, they were each lost in their own researching, trying to figure out anything they could regarding the men who took Prompto.

Ignis groaned as he got up to stretch his legs and grab them each a can of Ebony from the mini fridge. He admired Adam as he worked, his dark brows furrowed in concentration as he ran the faces of the criminals through yet another database.

It was quite a lucky turn of events that he happened to be casually dating the CEO and founder of a multinational tech company specializing in military software.

He held out the can and ignored the little flutter in his chest at the smile the handsome man gave him as he accepted the drink.

“Any luck?” Ignis asked quietly. Though they had gone over to Ignis’ suite, the prince had followed and he was currently caught in a fitful slumber on the couch.

Adam shook his head as he opened the can and took a long swallow. “No, not yet. It looks as if there are about thirty matches so far that vaguely resemble these guys; but we’re working with some shitty images.”

Ignis spared him a tight smile. “Is that the technical term?”

Adam laughed softly, his milk chocolate eyes dancing beneath his dark brows. “In this case, yes.”

“What about with tracing his signal?” Ignis stood behind him, and began to gently rub the tight muscles at the back of Adam’s neck.

“Well, that’s not actually as easy as TV makes it seem. Plus, it does seem like your friend has some pretty hefty securities on his phone. He’s the one who set up that nifty ringing trick on your phone, right?”

“Nifty is not the word I would use, but yes.”

Adam rolled his head around, giving Ignis access to the most sore muscles. “Well, that’s no easy feat, so I’m betting we probably won’t be able to break into it from here.”

Abruptly, Adam’s computer dinged and a tab began flashing on the screen. Adam leaned forward and clicked on it, pulling up an 89% match for one of the photos. T

he taller darker Crownsguard imposter’s photo was up side by side with a mug shot from Insomnia’s federal prison. He was only recently released from a seven year stint for a string of brutal assaults against refugees. He’d already disappeared into the underworld and there was a warrant out for his arrest for missing meetings with his parole officer.

“Crepitus Mael. This guy is a real piece of work.” Adam clicked on a few links, scrolling through his list of offenses. “Assault. Kidnapping. Assault. Assault of a minor. Sexual assault of a minor. Arson. Resisting arrest. Assault of an officer in the line of duty…”

He could have gone on, but Ignis tapped his shoulder and gestured towards Noctis. Adam nodded his understanding and continued to read silently.

‘Piece of work’ did not cover it. If this was the man who had Prompto, they had to find him quickly.

Ignis sat heavily in his chair, pulling out his phone. No one had texted him back since he’d sent the message yesterday. No request for ransom had been made and as far as he could tell, the men were attempting to cover up their tracks with anyone who would expect to see Prompto any time soon.

What did they want with him?

“Are you going to text him again? Maybe if we call…?” Adam tried, reaching over to squeeze Ignis’ knee comfortingly.

Ignis shook his head. “There are no females here, so I would not want to use any type of voice contact considering they believe me to be his mother. Even if we were to use some sort of voice changing technology, I would still not trust it. There are too many variables. If this is the one of the men who have him, I would not want to tempt him to any further violence. But, I do desperately need to know he’s ok. But, I can’t do that—“

Adam held up his hands pleadingly. “Slow down, Ignis. This is the most worked up I have seen you. You’re not making any sense.”

Ignis fell into silence. He stared hard at Noctis’ sleeping form for a long time. “Let us step out onto the balcony to discuss this further. I…don’t want to risk him knowing more quite yet. He may not handle it well.”

Adam nodded and stood, and the both of them took their cans of Ebony out onto the balcony to watch the sunrise and discuss their options. There weren’t many, so they eventually lapsed into an uneasy silence as the dark blue sky was slowly banished by far too cheerful shade of pink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there will be more. moooorrreeee. to come. soon. I promise. Stay brutal. (fictionally, of course. this author in no way condones violence or non consensual or underage activities of any kind)


	7. chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't worry don't worry, we're getting to the comfort soon. Not Prompto's, but someone's, And not this chapter. Satan and I had a little discussion and he told me you guys wanted just a little more horribleness before the resolution comes. Enjoy!!!!

Prompto was thirsty, _so thirsty_ …his hunger had turned to constant gnawing nausea hours ago; but his _thirst_... …his sandpaper eyelids fluttered as his vision stilted, coming in separate frames like he was viewing the room through the flashes of a strobe light; oh gods he was _hot_ and his eyes were _dry_ and he _hurt_ and his throat clicked when he tried to swallow and every muscle in his body howled for release or relaxation and his arms ached and pinched and burned and what little sweat his body was producing was cold and made him feel slimy; why was he sweating anyway; it’s so _cold_ in the damp room and—what was that scratching noise; like a thousand tiny legs scritching their odd song just over the ringing in his ear— _oh no_ ; oh gods that man had hurt him, took advantage, violated, fucking _raped_ him and sat there and smiled and ate a sandwich and laughed and touched him, caressed his hot flesh and pressed into his bleeding places and whispered to him how much he deserved it, how he was worthless, stupid, good for nothing, unloved and forgotten and that he was going to do these things to him again and again and again until he’d broken Prompto, but frankly Prompto was kind of wondering a little if he hadn’t already succeeded.…he sure felt broken anyway.

 

* * *

 

 

Lentium slept fitfully that night and was awake entirely too early.

Though he had a bit of money and shared that little place with his partner, he liked to frequent the homeless shelter; he’d stayed there a lot in his younger years and found it to be a safe refuge.

The shelter was quiet at this hour. He had stayed in the guest dorms, large rooms housing up to thirty people on bunks; he didn’t stay there often enough to have earned resident status. He pretty much only came when Crepitus was up to his….business.

Crepitus liked to break people slowly. But, they were on a timetable, and had to speed things along. Usually he waited a few days to get into the sexual stuff.

Lentium wasn’t against it. He wasn’t. It’s just that… they always look so scared afterwards; wounded. And not the right kind of wounded, either.

Usually, if they make it through those abuses, they break pretty easily when Lentium starts in on his particular tasks again. The violence was so much easier; he simply channeled how he felt as a boy, as a teenager, as a young man, when his father would beat him into submission, and he tried to recreate that in his victim.

This particular job was throwing him off, though, and he was beginning to feel like they shouldn’t have accepted it at all.

They had two usual types of targets:

The first were refugees; low level politicians, or sometimes even a regular citizen, would hire them into scaring the riffraff away from some areas; keeping them in the slums where they belonged.

The second were mid and low class citizens who knew things that more powerful people wanted to know. They usually didn’t make it too long.

Though the kid was upper lower class at best, and easy to prey upon, it made Lentium nervous to know that he had entanglements with the Crown.

As a general rule, you just didn’t fuck with royalty. It wasn’t done.

Their mysterious benefactor had paid them handsomely, however, and promised that no trouble would befall them if they stuck to the plan and did exactly what he said.

But, so far the only thing he’d told them to do was take the boy and find out what he knew. When Lentium had pressed for specifics, the voice on the other end of the phone lowered dangerously. “I want you to find out everything he knows about everyone he knows. I am especially interested in any information regarding the Prince and his adviser, but anything will do. Really, now, Len, must I do your job for you?”

He assured the voice that no, he did not need to do his job for him, and that he would find out everything the boy knew.

So far, he’d only been able to report that the adviser was smart, the shield was strong, and the prince was sleepy.

The kid was resilient.

The little fucker.

Lentium sighed to himself, staring in the mirror of the communal bathroom. It was very obvious that he had not slept.

He needed coffee.

 

* * *

 

 

Fuck this fuck everything _fuck this fucking guy_ fuck him fuck _godsdamn_ everything hurt and it was hard to breathe and he just wanted to go home, be held and loved and spoken to in soft sweet whispers, but it wasn’t like that would happen there, anyway; no his house was just as dark and cold as this basement but at least no one abused him there…his phone had been silent all this time, left charging just a few feet away, but no, no one had called not a text not a _fucking email notification_ , no, no one was coming...but wait, that wasn't true--Gladdy and Iggy and Noct got it; that's what that last text had meant, right; they knew wh...what was happen...happening...his brain felt funny and

~~he was going to die here~~

his throat was so dry and he just wanted to cry but he’d lost that ability and wondered if he’d ever get it back; would they miss him when he’s gone… It’s so hot in here…

 

* * *

 

Crepitus regarded the blond boy silently.

After he’d had his dinner, the swarthy man had redressed himself and set about removing the boy’s restraints, starting with the arms.

Prompto moaned and whimpered as the metal brackets were removed, revealing smooth freckled patches of pale skin between ragged cuts and dried blood. When the second arm was released, the boy had nowhere to go but down. He cried out, anguish rushing anew to his muscles.

Cretipus smiled at him, knowing that pain. There was nothing like the agony that came with being released from a prolonged stress position; like when you’re walking all day and you sit down and somehow your feet and legs hurt worse than when you were standing, but times a thousand.

He dragged the boy away from the table and sat on the floor, using the claw end of the hammer to pull the nails out of the brackets over the boy’s feet.

He was not surprised that Prompto only let out a small moan when Creptius had to use his foot for leverage and ended up breaking the two smallest toes on his left foot.

Now the freckled youth lay on the floor, unmoving, but awake. His haunted eyes gazed up at Crepitus, glittering with fever. His brow was furrowed in fear, suspicion; anticipation.

He was beautiful, and Crepitus was tempted to take the boy again, then and there. He felt most powerful when someone was at his complete mercy; it was intoxicating. He’d do it slowly this time, and force him to maintain eye contact; he wanted to drown in those blue violet depths. But he resisted, hard as it was. But he had plenty of time.

He kept his voice gentle when he spoke as he didn’t want to startle the boy and break the enchantment of those eyes staring into his own. “When Lentium comes back, the interrogation will begin again. If you do not cooperate, you will be punished. Do you understand?”

Prompto nodded slightly.

“Do you intend to cooperate?”

Prompto bit his bottom lip and finally broke eye contact. He shook his head. No. He did not intend to cooperate.

Crepitus sighed dramatically. “I want to remind you we still have a while before anyone even knows you are missing. The prince and his retinue are still in Accordo, and aren’t scheduled to come back for five more days. Your parents and school believe you to be at the citadel. No one at the citadel cares where you are. And you still plan to resist?”

Slowly Prompto lifted both arms off the ground, and with inhuman effort, flipped Crepitus two shaky birds.

Crepitus grinned. “I was hoping you would do something like that.”

He picked up Prompto’s phone and the miniature tripod and set them up on the floor to record a new video. He then dragged the crate that Prompto had pushed beneath the window over to where the freckled boy lay. He pulled a key from around his neck and unlocked the top, relishing the squeak of hinges and the clatter of wood against the floor.

Crepitus retrieved a few zip ties from the table. He sat on the floor and attempted to pull the boy into his lap. Grinning, he decided to give himself a little treat, and he allowed his hands to rove hungrily over Pompto's pale freckled skin.

As his long fingers dipped below the elastic of the chocobo print boxers, the freckled youth tapped into some unknown reserve of strength and managed to wrench away from his tormentor and he lashed out, clawing a surprised Crepitus across the face with his ragged nails. He managed to throw a bony knee up into the larger man’s sternum when he lunged for the boy, and scramble away a few feet.

But, he was weak and slow and his burst of adrenaline wore off quickly.

Crepitus gripped Prompto by the ankle and dragged him back. The large man backhanded him hard across the face, then grabbed the boy by the hair and thumped the side of his head twice against the concrete to subdue him.

He flipped Prompto over on his back and straddled him at the waist, gripping him by the chin roughly. “If you fight me again, I will dislocate both your arms and hobble you.”

He then snatched up both the boy’s arms and lashed them together at the wrists and elbows. He wasted no time in scooping Prompto up and dumping him into the crate, arranging him in a twisted sort of fetal position before he could get the lid closed.

Prompto tried his best, but he quite literally could not move. The walls of the crate seemed to be built almost specifically just big enough to fit him inside. His ass was wedged in one corner and his crossed ankles bent and pressed against the corner in front of him, while his shoulders and head were bent awkwardly across the opposite corner with his forehead wedged against his knees. His own elbows were rammed into his stomach, while his clenched fists dug into the base of his throat.

He tried to keep control of his breathing as Crepitus shuffled about the room again. He strained and shifted, but was unable to budge more than mere millimeters. He stilled again when the man’s footsteps sounded outside of the crate and the lid was lifted again.

From his angle, Prompto could only stare up at his captor balefully from the corner of his eye.

The man smiled to him, shaking a paper bag. “I have to leave for a while, and since Lentium is taking his time getting back, I will need to make sure you will stay out of trouble. But—“ his smile crept up to his silver eyes and they shone with just a hint of madness. “I would not want you to get lonely.”

Crepitus opened the paper bag and up-ended it, dropping a multitude of bugs into the crate on top of the trapped blond. He shook the bag several times till every spider, roach, cricket, millipede, and silverfish had been freed from their paper prison. He grinned at the terror stricken boy and then dropped the lid shut with a resounding bang. He whistled to himself as he locked the top and left the room, making sure to flip off the lights as he departed.

 

* * *

 

Crawling skittering little feet creeping in his hair, delicate legs tracing paths along his swollen jawline; across trembling eyes squeezed shut against assault…his fingers that he struggled so hard to straighten shook—pressed against pursed lips—hovered just a few hairsbreadths from his nostrils in a desperate attempt to keep the bugs from making their way inside…two spiders fought for domination in the narrow space between his ankles and the backs of his thighs and he was bit several times during the battle; high pitched whimpers forced their way out as panic took over and he stretched and strained and pressed and the blackness at the edge of his vision started blotting out the blackness of his prison…maybe if he stayed still, stayed perfectly still, _stayed absolutely perfectly godsfuckingdamed still,_ they would creep their way out of the crate and he would be ok, but no no no of course they make their way around and tease broken dry sobs from him as something makes its way into the shell of his ear and he tries to shake his head but it doesn’t work and something else has bit him on the chest and they were everywhere they were _everyfuckingwhere_ and where was Noct?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, so I seem to be able to make this thing go on forever, and i'm thinking there will be about three more chapters and an epilog. that's the plan anyway. I promise i'm not trying to drag it out; I have more or less trapped myself into a time problem and have no idea how to dig my way out. soooooooo....just gratuitous amounts of torture and angst are getting served up, but the dessert will be nice. I promise :)
> 
> And as always, thanks for all the kudos and comments!! I do try to reply to everyone, but if I miss you, I do apologize.


	8. chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiiiiiiiiiiii. so, here it is...another chapter. this was both longer than I thought and shorter than I thought. I wanted to add so much more, but then it woulda been another two days and three thousand words prolly...so we're gonna just have this chapterydo for you, my lovely lovely readers.
> 
> oh, and I apparently totally lied about the comfort. that's still not here. for anyone.

They were up and out of the hotel directly after breakfast; Adam riding to the private airstrip with them. He’d spent the better part of the last few hours trying to convince Ignis to take his private jet back to Insomnia, but the royal adviser steadfastly declined. So, he sat with his fingers entwined with Ignis’ while the prince stared sullenly at his phone and the Crownsguard muttered to one another.

They had finally made the men aware of what was going on, since they had to cut the trip short and had not informed the king as of yet. Ignis had made arrangements so that they would be back in Insomnia proper before anyone was informed. The bodyguards obeyed without question, but not without the occasional side eye and muttered objection. They wanted to inform Cor Leonis so that an investigation could get underway.

Turns out they were kind of fond of the freckled youth, and weren’t too happy to hear that someone had absconded with him with no clear motive.

But, as no further contact had been made, and no demands had been levied, they didn’t want to alert the captors that they knew Prompto was gone. Everyone felt it was safer that way. Felt _he_ was safer that way.

Well, almost everyone….

“What about Gladio?” Noctis did not look up from his phone, didn’t raise his voice at all.

“What about Gladio?” Ignis posed the question back to Noctis.

“Well, you can’t call him cause you’re not a woman so they’d know something is up. But, what if Gladio called? If they are trying to keep up appearances, they might let him talk, since they think he’s his dad and all. I mean…we gotta know he’s OK, Iggy.”

Ignis squeezed Adam’s fingers twice before letting them go, pulling out his cell phone to send a message to the shield. “That’s not a bad idea, Noct. Perhaps we can at least get an idea of his well being.”

The long minutes of silence after Ignis sent his text were agony; the whole car reeked of ozone which wafted off of Noctis as he attempted to control his rage and worry. He was a boy, still. He had no real control over the powers that are locked away from him, but it seemed his emotions were building an access conduit.

Ignis had caught that flash of maroon in his eyes, heard that strange shatter to the atmosphere that accompanied him accessing an empty armiger. He was burning up a lot of magic without actually using any, and it was wearing on him.

They were entering the hangar where their air ship awaited before Gladiolus texted them back to let them know he’d received no answer. This did not sit well with the prince, who snatched the phone from Ignis’ hand and stepped out of the car before it had fully rolled to a stop.

“You call him, Gladio,” he yelled into the phone the second the shield picked up. “You call until one of those bastards answers and you find out where the fuck they took my friend! Find them, Gladio!”

Two of the Crownsguard got on the airship to do their inspection while one hovered near Ignis and Adam and the other guarded the doors to the hangar. Ignis started to go to Noctis to help calm him, but Adam held him back. He smiled at Ignis’ questioning look. “He needs to vent. You saw him last night, with the dishes. There’s nothing for him to break here, and it is still a long flight back to Insomnia.”

Ignis nodded and took a breath. Behind him, his prince was pacing the floor growling low commands into his phone. He had resigned himself to let Noctis let off some steam, however the prince had other ideas and stalked over to him shoving the phone against his chest. His watery night blue eyes shone with need. “You tell him to find him, Iggy. I wanna know where he is before we land.”

Not waiting for an answer, Noctis turned and trudged up the ramp into the airship and threw himself into a seat. Ignis crooked a half smile at Adam and held up a finger as he put the phone to his ear and stepped away. “I do apologize about that, Gladio. Please tell me you’ve found something.”

He offered Adam a smile as he walked away further and the dark haired man nodded his understanding, pulling out his own phone to distract himself while Ignis spoke with the shield.

Gladiolus sighed on the other end of the line, his very breath laced with worry. “No, we haven’t. Got to the homeless shelter and apparently just missed the guy. Iris is trying to find out more, since she knows the people who work here, but so far it’s not much to go on. I dunno what to do, here, Iggy.”

Ignis lowered his voice more, turning away from the small crowd of guards and workers finishing up getting the airship ready to go. “We should be there in less than twelve hours. The new engine the ship was outfitted with will practically cut the travel time in half. Plus, most everyone expects us to be in Accordo for days, yet. We still have the element of surprise. If we can get a lead, anything, we might be able to find them. Try calling again in a while. Perhaps send a few texts as well. They may be more likely to answer if they believe you to be a concerned parent, assuming they intend to keep up the ruse of him being at the citadel.”

Gladiolus agreed, promising to call if he got through. Ignis hung up and slid his phone in his pocket, heading back over to where Adam leaned against the car. “I was thinking;” Adam quirked his lips charmingly, tilting his head ever so slightly. “Why don’t I come with you? I mean, I understand your Citadel probably has top notch security personnel who are able to do the same things I can, but you can keep this issue discreet for longer if you let me do the work for you.”

Ignis waffled. It would help them, and he could do further research during the flight.

But, he could also bring his …friend… into danger, and Ignis was not sure if he was alright with that.

Adam seemed to sense his hesitation and rushed to assure him. “Look, Ig, I can handle myself.” He reached forward and grabbed one of Ignis’ hands between his own, lightly rubbing his thumb across his wrist. “Let me do this for you. I promise that when the time comes, I will stay out of the way.”

Ignis smiled in return, and gently ran the fingers of his free hand down the side of Adam’s face, drinking in his features; those brown eyes, his soft lips, the scruffy beard that Ignis was surprised to find he liked so much. Fully knowing better, Ignis agreed.

It would be nice to have someone along to help keep him sane while he kept Noctis sane.

 

* * *

 

….i wanna ride….my chocobo….. i wa…wanna ride my chocobo all…day…..i wanna ride my chocobo all day….i wanna…ride my…cho..chocobo all day…I wanna rid my choco…bo all day…I wanna ride my cho…oh…

… … …

… … …

…. …..

… I wanna ride my chocobo all day..wanna ride…choco bo all day…. ….chocobo…. …wanna….. …ride my chocobo… day… …I wan…wanna….chocobo… i wa…wanna ride my chocobo all…day…..i wanna ride my choco …. choco…oh… …

… …

It must have gone to voicemail.

 

* * *

 

Some horrendous traffic clusterfuck caused them to have to take the long way to the shelter, much to Gladiolus’ chagrin. What should have been a twenty minute drive turned into an hour and a half and he’s pretty certain that the steering wheel has permanent perfect indents of his fingers.

Now, Gladiolus stood outside of the homeless center, waiting for Iris.

After he’d hung up with Ignis, he’d tried to call Prompto's phone again, but it just rang and went to voicemail. He didn’t bother leaving a message, and instead sent a text.

GLAD: Hey, sport, I know the doctors are probably keeping a close eye on you, but your mom and I are getting worried. If we don’t hear from you soon, we’re going to go down to the Citadel ourselves. Feel better.”

(received 8:17 AM)

He slipped his phone back into his pocket just as Iris came out. He glared against the early morning sun and quickly got in her brother’s shadow to help block it out.

“Welll?” He asked expectantly as they headed away from the building.

Iris pouted. “They didn’t know a lot. Said he comes around every so often, stays for a meal, sometimes for the night, then he’s gone again. They said his name is Lentium Swal, though. But that’s all they had on him.”

“What about the group he usually hangs around?”

Iris screwed up her face at that. “They were no help at all. Just kept talking about how the king keeps letting in all these refugees and how they’re destroying everything. What do they even mean?”

Gladiolus shook his head. “Some people just don’t want to share, is all.” He left it at that, and thankfully she let him. He was in no mood to explain the intricacies of politics and taxes and government and war and fucking daemons right now.

He just wanted to find his friend.

After he sent off the text to Ignis with the guy’s name, he guided Iris over to a café, where they ordered drinks and snacks. They posted up at an outdoor table, still in view of the shelter and surrounding buildings so that he could keep an eye on them. Just in case.

They chatted a while, but their mood was somber. Just as he’d decided to take Iris home, his phone chirped and displayed BLONDIELOCKS across the screen.

Prompto.

When he opened the text, needles shot through his veins, causing his head to spin enough that he had to lean a hand against the wall.

BLONDILOCKS: We know who you really are.

(read: 8:54 am)

He wasted no time in texting back.

GLAD: let me talk to him

(sent 8:54 am)

“Gladdy?” Iris tugged on his arm, trying to get his attention. But he only grunted, staring at the screen. When no answer was forthcoming, he tried again.

GLAD: what do you want??

“Gladdy,” Iris hissed again, “that’s him!!” Iris pointed across the road to where the green haired man was just ducking into an alley.

Shoving his phone in his pocket, Gladiolus took off at a run, knowing that Iris would follow. However, in his rage, he failed to look properly before taking off into the street. The world did a somersault and was all flashes of blue, yellow and blue again as small bursts of pain erupted over his body. A surprised yelp got lost among shattering glass, honking horns, and his baby sister screaming his name. Velvety blackness enveloped him before he ever hit the ground.

 

* * *

 

An ethereal voice floated to him from the darkness soon after the familiar tone of his phone silenced for the last time. “…if I let you out, do you promise to be a good boy?”

“…yes….” He whispered, his voice thin and dry as paper.

A chuckle filtered through his consciousness. Then light—sudden, bright, painful—and dusky hands too cool against his flesh; whimpers issue from his dry swollen throat as the crawling things scramble to stay on slick skin, but gravity pulls them down in little plops and cracks on the wood below as he is lifted from confinement.

He was sat in a chair and surprisingly gentle hands swept across his body, threaded through his blood crusted hair, brushing the remaining bugs away. Crepitus tutted softly, and retrieved a pair of long tweezers from his menagerie on the table. He crouched down next to Prompto and ever so carefully dislodged and drew a millipede from the boy’s ear canal, dropping it on the floor next to them.

Prompto’s world was that of gently bleeding colors and fog. He tried to follow all the words the man was saying, but it was hard.

Most of his concentration was on staying upright, as all the muscles in his back and legs simultaneously ached and shook like jelly. His arms remained bound at the wrists and elbows and his clenched fists tottered a few inches in front of his face, never finding true relief as there were only a few inches they could move before the zip ties bit painfully into his already lacerated flesh.

He was forced to pay attention when Crepitus grasped him by the chin with one hand and forced him to look up into his eyes. Some small bit of satisfaction bloomed in the back of his mind when he spotted the ragged scratches down the side of the man’s face.

“I received an interesting message from Lentium. It seems that while he was out, he spied the prince’s shield and a young girl searching for him. Is there anything you want to tell me?”

Prompto incrementally shook his head.

This lie resulted in Crepitus increasing the pressure on his jaw to bruising proportions. “Let me make myself more clear. As Lentium was cowering in a darkened doorway, he heard the little girl refer to the shield as ‘Gladdy’. Perhaps that will jog your memory.”

Prompto’s response was a murmured plea to not put him back in the box.

Crepitus’ silvery eyes went soft as he drank in the terror from the boy’s blue violet depths. He gentled his grasp on the boy’s jaw and slid his thumb down over his chapped lips. “I’m not going to put you back in the box.”

He sauntered over to the table and picked up another fast food cup, shaking it at Prompto. It sounded…full.

Knowing better (and unable to due to the zip ties) Prompto did not try to reach for the cup this time and instead leaned demurely forward and drank from the straw. The lemon lime soda burned on the way down, but he didn’t care. After only a few meager swallows, Crepitus took the drink away, sitting down again.

Crepitus messed with Prompto’s phone for a few moments, then set it up on the tripod. “You have a fever; a rather high one. It seems you have a weak constitution. I want you to keep your strength up, so I have brought you a bit of food. But, you have to show me what a good boy you can be before I will feed you. Do you understand?”

Prompto nodded solemnly.

Crepitus’ face broke out in a grin, and he tugged the boy to his feet by his bound wrists only to push him down to his knees again on the floor before him.

Prompto glanced nervously at his phone, which was facing them, set up, ready to record. Following his gaze, Crepitus smiled again and caressed the side of the boy’s face, bringing his head back around to look up at him. “Don’t worry, boy. This part is only for us.”

He graciously allowed Prompto a few more swallows of soda before he reached for his belt buckle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for your comments and kudos!!! you guys are all life savers!! Stay brutal.


	9. chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey there. so I will apologize in advance for ripping your heart from your chest and grinning as the blood rains down. haha kidding. I'm not sorry at all. Enjoy!

Prompto’s fifteenth birthday was shaping up to be a lonely affair. Though he’d been hanging out with Noctis for a few weeks now, he didn’t even mention it to the prince. He didn’t want to seem like he was trying to draw undue attention to himself. The fact was, he was just grateful that the raven haired teen seemed to genuinely want him around.

~~think about anything else right now~~

His parents were, of course, out of town. It was almost like he never saw them anymore. They acknowledged his birthday by putting an extra hundred gil into his account. Not even a text; just a deposit notification.

~~I’m not here, this is not happening~~

To add insult to injury, the sky decided he needed to get drenched halfway through his jog. As he slogged home in his overly wet tennis shoes, he’d decided he was going to spend the rest of the day in his bed curled up with comics and copious amounts of hot chocolate and eat a whole six damned pizza for his dinner.

~~why is this…why…why him…why~~

But, fate had other plans. When he arrived home, there was a sleek black car in his driveway and a shivering prince huddled on his porch.

~~he’s always there for me, he’ll come for me, I have to hold on~~

Noctis gave him a lopsided smile and bumped shoulders with him as Prompto crowded past to put the key in the door. “Ditched Iggy and snagged dad’s car. Let’s go do something fun.”

~~can’t go back in the box…I won’t make it out again~~

Prompto chortled as they stumbled through the threshold, leaving wet footprints as they both bounded up to Prompto’s room. “You expect me to ride around in the treason-mobile with you? No thanks! We get caught, it’s me going down, not you, bro.”

~~can’t breathe…why won’t he let me breathe?~~

Noctis had laughed at that and Prompto’s cheeks flushed. He always considered it a personal triumph when he made the usually unaffected teen crack up. “I promise I will fully pardon you. Get cleaned up, let’s hit the arcade.” Prompto mockingly bowed to his prince, who flipped him off. He got himself cleaned up and dressed pretty quickly, and they were out the door in just a few minutes… only to run smack dab into Ignis, looking none too amused. Behind him, an unidentified Crownsguard was starting up the Regalia and pulling away, leaving only the black town car Ignis usually drove behind.

~~I’m strong, I can get through this~~

He had them back in the house with nothing more than a pointed stare. Prompto was surprised when the adviser veered into the kitchen, noticing for the first time that he had brought a small box with him. “Noct,” he began, setting his small burden on the counter, “it may be your new friend’s birthday, but that is no excuse to steal your father’s car. He is not happy about this at all. But,” Ignis pulled plates and forks out of the cabinets as if he lived there, and began plating slices of the most decadent chocolate cake Prompto had ever seen. “your stupidity is no fault of Prompto’s, so I don’t see why we cannot celebrate for a little while before your father confines you to the Citadel for a month.”

~~they’re looking for me…they’ll find me~~

When Prompto whispered to Noctis to ask him how he’d known it was his birthday, the prince waved in the adviser’s direction. “Iggy knows everything. Like _everything_ everything.”

~~Why does it have to hurt?~~

Ignis carefully placed a small blue candle into one of the pieces of cake, lit it, and held it out to Prompto with a smile. “Make a wish.”

~~oh gods make this all fucking stop please~~

Prompto blew out the candle.

 

* * *

 

Lentium ran.

He’d been skulking about in the halls of the center when he’d spotted the shield and the little girl. He’d immediately ducked into a cleaning closet, leaving the door cracked just a bit.

Motherfucker was a lot bigger than he looked in the pictures their benefactor had provided. Lentium himself wasn’t all that much taller than their scrawny captive, but he was stockier. Taking in the height and pure muscle mass of the younger man, he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight with him.

He did briefly wonder why they were there, specifically. He was a little relieved when he recognized the girl as one of the kitchen volunteers. However, he heard his name being spoken by the registry administrator at the front desk, and panicked when he started leading them his way.

As they passed his hiding spot, he heard the little girl refer to the larger man as Gladdy, and he knows, _he_ _knows_ they’re done for.

As they turn the corner at the end of the hall, heading for the dorms, Lentium scrambles out of the closet, down the hall, and out the door. He is in an alley two blocks over before he stops and texts Crepitus who immediately responded to tell him to watch them.

So that’s what he did.

Till his nerves got the better of him and he made a move when he shouldn’t have and was spotted by the little black haired girl, damn her.

He ducked into the nearest alley, pausing briefly to glance back at the blaring horns and watched long enough to see the big man hit the ground and the girl rush to his side. He wasn’t moving.

He didn’t stick around to see the aftermath, though, and wove his way through the back alleys and dingy streets until he reached the little building he shared with Crepitus.

It wasn’t much; it used to be a store of some sort, and sat on its own little plot of land. The appealing part was the solid basement it contained. No one ever heard them up to their work in here…not that anyone in this neighborhood would narc on them anyway.

He barrelled down the stairs and quickly unlocked the door to the basement storage area, slipping inside. He breathed a sigh of relief to himself to see both Crepitus and the boy seated at the table. Though Lentium did have that rather self satisfied smirk on his face. The cat who got the cream, so to speak.

“Ah, Lentium, you’re a little earlier than I expected. We were just about to begin, weren’t we, _Prompto_?” The amount of possessive inflection he put into the boy’s name was downright dangerous. Lentium had seen him get like this before, and it was never pretty.

The boy in question continued to stare at the table and hum quietly to himself.

“Uh, Crepitus, we need to move. I was spotted by Amicitia.” He shifted nervously back and forth in front of the door.

These words seemed to not faze the swarthy man in the least. He didn’t even spare Lentium a glance. He was meticulously cutting a sandwich into small pieces. “Were you followed?”

“Uh, no, actually. He tried, but got hit by a car.”

That gained a reaction from the blond boy who slowly turned his head to look back at Lentium. His eyes were watery and haunted and made something twinge in the man’s gut. He tamped it down, though, and stood up a little straighter.

Crepitus reached over and turned on the camera of the phone. He slid Prompto’s chair so that it was angled more towards him. With his arms bound up the way they were, it looked as if the boy was pleading with him; or maybe praying to him.

Either way, it was unsettling.

Crepitus gently crooked a finger under the boy’s chin and drew his eyes back to his own. “See there, boy? Your clever little games got your friend killed. My my, now the prince is without a shield. The Amacitia household is without their male heir. All because of a worthless little thing like you.”

The boy let out a strangled moan and shut his eyes, tucking his head down against his bound wrists.

“If only you had done as you were told. But you didn’t did you?” His tone turned sinister, and Prompto let out a tiny ‘no’ in response.

Knowing better than to interrupt Crepitus at this point, Lentium flopped onto the couch and pulled out his phone. He messaged their benefactor to tell him of the accident. The answer was almost immediate in coming.

XXXX: escalate.

Fuck. He found himself again wishing they’d never taken this job.

 

* * *

 

“…but is he ok?” Ignis was pacing the long hallway between the living/dining areas and the cockpit so that he could keep this conversation private.

Cor Leonis had just rung through to him to let him know that Gladiolus was currently on his way to the hospital, and to ask ‘what in the living fuck was their godsdamned problem, why in the hell would they try to take on something like this without calling someone, _anyone_ , to have them investigate’, to which Ignis had no real excuse at this point.

“Yeah, he’s going to be fine, he’s on his way to the hospital, now. Just to make sure. His sister is with him; do not get me started on how much trouble all of you are in. I’m starting my own men on this immediately. When you land you are all to come directly to the Citadel, do I make myself clear?” Cor’s tone left no room for argument, and he did not wait for Ignis to answer before he hung up.

The adviser spent a few moments collecting himself before entering the living quarters again, stopping to gently tuck a dark wool blanket (that he absolutely crocheted himself for Noctis’ twelfth birthday) around the prince as he fitfully dozed.

The teen had fallen asleep about two hours into the flight all curled in on himself and looking much smaller than he has in a long time. The Crownsguard had all taken seats near the prince, respectfully letting Adam and Ignis take up the small dining area so that the tech mogul could set up his equipment.

Unfortunately, it was like this Lentium Swal did not exist. He couldn’t even be found associated with Crepitus Mael. Adam meticulously viewed every database and was getting rather frustrated. “It’s like he’s a ghost,” he muttered as Ignis sat next to him.

Ignis gave him a half smile and rubbed his knee reassuringly. “It’s alright. I appreciate the effort you are putting in.” Adam closed his laptop and turned to Ignis, taking the hand that rested on his knee.

“This kid is important to you, right?”

Ignis nodded, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Yes, surprisingly. I dare say he has grown on me over this last year. He makes Noctis happy.”

“Well,” Adam lowered his voice and leaned forward, brushing a chaste kiss across Ignis’ jaw. “That means he’s important to me. We’ll find him, Ig, I promise.”

“Yes, well—“ Suddenly, a shrill whistle followed by the raucous kwehing of chocobos sounded from the vicinity of Ignis’ coat pocket.

Déjà vu.

The adviser leapt to his feet, almost dropping the device in his haste to answer. It was a video file. He bit his lip and sat back down, casting a worried look to Adam, who immediately pulled Ignis into his side to provide what comfort he could.

Prompto was visible on the screen from the waist up. He’d been badly beaten; there was swelling along his jaw line and around his eyes—both of which were blackened at the inner corners, spreading out to a sickly green towards his temples; this at least partially due to his obviously broken nose. His freckles stood out starkly against his pallid complexion. His chapped lips trembled and his blond hair was dirty and matted with blood in several spots.

Ignis’ stomach twisted as the disembodied voice intimated that Gladiolus was dead and that it was Prompto’s fault. The expression that flashed across Prompto’s face was both guilt stricken and terrified.

Ignis’ eyes were drawn to the boy’s arms, which were littered with lacerations. Many of which were red and puffy with infection. They were bound up in front of him in an awkward position that had to separate his shoulder blades in a painful manner.

“You know something else? Now that I know your little secret; that you managed to send your friends messages instead of your parents…it leaves me to wonder... We’ve had you for going on 48 hours now. And not one single peep from your actual parents. Why have they not called?”

The camera was shifted to partially include the man speaking; whom Ignis identified as Crepitus. He winked into the camera, then turned his attention back to the boy. He lifted a small bit of sandwich and pressed it towards Prompto’s face. The abused boy stayed silent, lips pressed together. Crepitus pushed it harder against his mouth, dribbling a bit of grape jelly out on his chin. “Go on now, boy, you earned it.”

With a barely disguised sob, Prompto opened his mouth and allowed the man to pop the little sandwich square inside. He chewed it quickly and swallowed, and allowed the man to feed him another.

“Is it because your parents don’t love you? The file I have on you says that you were adopted. Did they never bond with you? Is that why they haven’t questioned why you haven’t come home? Their little Niff boy has wandered off, and they’re probably glad for it.”

Prompto breathed in harshly, furrowing his brow. He said nothing though; and when Crepitus held the next bite sized piece of food further away, he only hesitated a little before leaning forward to meet him more than half way. He was forced to wrap his lips around the man’s thumb and forefinger to successfully remove the food.

Ignis was going to be sick. Adam pulled him in closer, looking away. He stretched up a bit, tucking the taller man’s head under his chin. He gently stroked Ignis’ arm as he started to shake; eyes glued to the screen.

“Cat got your tongue, boy?” Prompto’s silence didn’t really seem to bother him though; he was more than amused with this strange feeding ritual he was performing.

“Tell me, why do you think the prince of Lucis wastes his time on a peasant like you? Hmmm? Is it that he feels sorry for the little friendless Niff refugee boy? Or maybe he thinks of you more like a trophy? You; you who are so obviously an outsider with your foreign features. You could never hide who you are— _what_ you are—from anyone. A son of the land of his enemy, following him about like a pet.”

Prompto turned away from the next offering of food, snuffling loudly. “Do you suppose he laughs about you, when you’re not around? At all those courtly affairs with the other noble children? They stand about and snigger over your pathetic attempts—“

“Shut up! Shut up shut up SHUT UP!” Prompto screamed at Crepitus, his fevered eyes flashing with bitterness.

“I really don’t think we should stay here, longer.” An off screen voice intimated.

Crepitus glanced in the direction of the voice. “What did our benefactor have to say?”

An audible sigh, followed by a nearly whispered: “Escalate.”

“Hmm, well then, it would not due to not follow orders.” He turned back to Prompto; “Since you aren’t feeling talkative, I think it’s time to go back in the box.” Crepitus’ smile grew as Prompto stilled.

The boy whispered, almost too low for Ignis to hear: “But I was good.”

“Do you call not answering my questions being good?” 

“But..you said…you said if I was good that I could get out of the box.”

Crepitus reached forward and lightly brushed his fingers down the side of Prompto’s face. “I never said I wouldn’t put you back in.”

Something shifted in Prompto. Ignis couldn’t quite place it or explain it, but there was a definite closing off of something. Though they still glittered with fever, his blue violet eyes went dead, and his body ceased its trembling. “At least let my arms go.” He quietly requested, not looking up at the man.

“You need to give me something before I make a deal with you.”

Prompto’s eyes laser focused in on the man. “You’ve already taken everything.”

Crepitus practically snarled as his hand darted forward, gripping the short hairs at the back of the boy’s head. “And I’ll take it all again, whenever I please.”

Prompto was silent long moments, glaring up at the man who held his face just a few inches from his own. “I can tell you something a-about Iggy…ah...Ignis Scientia that almost no one knows. But you gaw…got to let my arms go, man.” 

Ignis bit his lip as he watched Crepitus weigh the offer. He finally let Prompto’s head go and retrieved a knife from the table. When he cut the plastic zip ties from the boy’s elbows and wrists, they flopped to his sides and a strange sort of agonized relief flooded his features.

“Now, tell me this secret of the adviser’s.”

Prompto’s swollen bottom lip tipped up in some parody of a smile. “Ignis’ middle name…is Stupeo.”

There was a bitter pause where no one moved and Ignis thought to himself _no Prompto no, do not antagonize these men._

The last seconds before the video cut off showed the other man—this Lentium Swal—stomping into the frame and yanking Prompto out of his chair, throwing him onto the floor. He snagged a belt that lay coiled on the table and began to mercilessly beat the prone figure at his feet while his partner calmly removed the phone from its spot and turned it off.

Adam rose to his feet along with Ignis, who was doing his level best to keep himself from vomiting.

He didn’t have long to think about anything, though.  Noctis began repeatedly bellowing his name, sounding for all the world like a wounded animal.

Ignis rushed forward to find his prince pale and shaking, holding his phone in tremulous fingers. The adviser slowly reached out and tugged the phone from his grasp.

He had assumed at first that Noctis received the same video, but a quick glance showed quite another story. He only had to watch about three seconds of it before he figured out it was of Crepitus violating their friend.

No sooner had he shut the video down that his phone began to ring again; this time from Gladiolus. He didn’t allow Ignis to speak before stating: “I just got the most fucked up video.”

“Yeah,” Ignis replied. “We all did.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for trudging through the seventh circle of hell with me. I think so far this was the hardest to write. I don't like saying mean things to the sweet cinnamon roll child. buuuut.....wellll I do love to cause all the pain! I promise I promise this is getting close to the end. Retribution will be hand in the next chapter or three. I prooomiiise.
> 
> Stay brutal.


	10. chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> those who have read previous stories may see a reused theme here. I'm not sorry. This is more of a bridge chapter. We are getting into the home stretch, folks! I hope you've been enjoying the ride as much as I have. As always, thank you for your kudos and comments. They keep a girl going.

Iris was having none of it.

None. Of. It.

She’d only just missed getting swiped by a car herself as she rushed to help her brother when he landed on the ground. A cab driver had hit him full-on, and now had a nice sized dent and a shattered windshield to show for it.

Gladiolus lay on the pavement, one leg twisted at an odd angle and his eyes firmly shut. He was breathing, and his pulse was strong, but he didn’t react to her at all. It really scared her. Luckily, by the time the emergency workers arrived, he had come around…though he wasn’t quite coherent for several more minutes after that. In fact, he didn’t start really making any sense until Cor Leonis arrived.

Personally, Iris thought the marshal scared her brother’s wits back in his head. Because the marshal was _maaaaad_.

He first made sure Gladiolus was actually ok, but then set in with that tone of his; the one that immediately let the person he was talking to know they’d messed up with their own stupidity. It wasn’t long before her brother had babbled out most of the story of what lead up to his mild concussion, two busted ribs and a leg that was broken in not one but three places. With every sentence Cor’s demeanor grew darker and at the end he yelled several expletives loud enough to draw the attention of onlookers.

He’d waived her up on the ambulance as well when they went to take her brother away; a break that bad was going to require more than magic to make sure it healed properly, especially considering Gladiolus’ future as the prince’s shield.

She could hear Cor yelling at Ignis on the phone over the sirens as they pulled away.

They were at the hospital by the time Gladiolus got some video that he refused to let her watch and he contacted their butler Jared to come get her. He’d made her promise that she was going to stay out trouble and not give Jared a hard time, since he wasn’t going to be home for several hours at least.

It was starting to get dark by the time they’d returned to the manor and Iris excused herself up to her room. Once there, she quickly changed into black leggings and a black sweater and then excused herself right out the window, down the trellis, across the back yard, and over the fence. She was well on her way back to the scene of the accident before Jared had settled himself in his quarters with his evening shows.

 

* * *

 

 

Crepitus watched Lentium dole out his punishment on the smart mouthed boy. He could tell the man was close to snapping and needed to release his frustrations, so he let him go on for longer than he normally would.

When he’d finally wore himself out and discarded the bloodied belt on the ground, Lentium muttered something about getting the truck prepared and Crepitus waved him off. As he left the room, glancing back at the downed boy, something uneasy settled in his gut.

Crepitus gently nudged the prone figure with his boot. A low moan let him know the boy was not unconscious, which pleased him.

There was nothing inside of Crepitus that told him any of this was wrong. Their benefactor had provided quite a bit of information on their (his) captive. The most interesting tidbit being that he was a Niff. When Crepitus first saw him, it was confirmed; that pale complexion built for winter climates and the particular jaw line were dead giveaways.

It didn’t matter that the boy was adopted at a young age and had lived in Lucis for the vast majority of his life. It didn’t matter that he had nothing to do with the war or what had happened to the Mael family or Crepitus himself when he was young.

A Niff was a Niff was a Niff was a _Niff_.

He’d decided long ago that he would do his best to kill any of the rat bastards he could in the most slow and creative ways possible. He was up to twenty nine. (Lentium was only aware of three, as Crepitus had quite the history before they began their association)

He’d figured out a method; a rhythm, a particular way he liked to do things. He’d found driving them to madness before ending it all was satisfying in a way that simply slitting throats in back alleys was not. It was especially nice when they ended it themselves.

However, in this case, he didn’t have the time. He’d been given a specific set of directions separately from Lentium, and it was time to move on to the next phase.

He wondered if their benefactor would let him keep the boy once his purpose was served.

Assuming he lived, of course.

Crepitus stretched out his shoulders and back for a moment before he bent down to pick up the boy.

He struggled a little, flailing his arms and attempting to wrench free. But his fever, concussion, and various other wounds had finally caught up with him and he was weak as a kitten; easily quelled. He held the boy bridal style and walked him over to the crate.

“Please don’t p-put me back in…ple-please.”

Oh, how he loved it when they begged.

“Come now, a brave boy like you who has such smart words and clever plans and can withstand horrid abuses…surely this little box is nothing to you.”

This time, the boy reached a tremulous hand and placed it against Crepitus’ chest. Almost too low for him to hear, the boy whispered “I can be good again. Please don’t….don’t put me back in there.”

The smile that crept across his face was slow and sinister.  “That is a tempting offer, but you’ve ruined all your chances with me. Your smart mouth will no longer grant even the smallest of favors, no matter how talented it is.”

Crepitus kicked open the lid of the crate and grinned again. “Well what do we have here? It looks like you still have plenty of friends waiting for you! Here and I thought some of them would run away.”

The larger man then dropped the arm that was holding up the boy’s legs and let his feet hit the floor, supporting Prompto by the shoulders.

Crepitus drew his eyebrows together in mock concern. “Do try to keep from killing any more of your friends, yes?” He then clapped his hand over the boy’s mouth and nose much like that first day and watched as those blue violet depths slowly dimmed and finally rolled back.

He quickly released the hold and checked to ensure he started breathing again properly, then set about wedging Prompto back into the crate and locking it securely.

 

* * *

 

 

Somewhere in the back of his head, some princely part of Noctis knew he was not handling things well. He could see it on Ignis’ face and in the way what’s his name kept his distance. The Crownsguard were all occupying themselves otherwise as well as their charge seethed and paced and threatened and screamed.

Against his better judgment and very much against Ignis’ advisory, Noctis had watched all three videos in full. Not even his usually stoic advisor could sit through all the footage, though he tried. Ignis got up and excused himself from the room about the time Crepitus was pouring a bag full of bugs into the crate he’d just shoved Prompto into.

Luckily the walls to the bathroom blocked out the sounds of him retching, as Noctis knew Ignis would be mortified if they heard him losing his lunch.

Noctis watched them all, partly looking for any clues as to where his friend was being held, but mostly just trying to be there for Prompto in some strange fashion. So that he wasn’t alone in his suffering.

He was absolutely ready to kill and was being quite vocal about it.

“Noct—“ Ignis tried for the third time to calm him, and the prince lost it.

“What, Iggy? Are you going to fucking tell me to calm down?! You didn’t even see everything they did to him! Hell, I didn’t even see everything they’d done to him since he’s been there much longer than twenty three minutes worth of fucking video! They raped him, Ignis! They fucking raped my best friend!”

“We’ll get him the best therapies—“ Ignis tried again, but was immediately cut off.

“Therapy?! Yeah, therapy will unfuck him, alright. Therapy isn’t going to do shit, Iggy.” Noctis glared at his adviser for a moment, his eyes daring him to say something.

But, it was Adam who next spoke up. He placed a comforting hand on the adviser’s shoulder and glared right back at the prince. “What is happening to your friend is a terrible thing, but that’s no reason to take it out on Ignis.”

The entire cabin went silent save for the steady hum of the engines ever present in the background.

Noctis’ eyes went that bright maroon it did when he was accessing his magic. His immediate surroundings grew hazy as his anger literally began to burn off him. He cocked his head to the side and spoke with exaggerated politeness. “Oh, I’m _sorrrryyy_ , new guy! Did I yell at your _boyfriend_? That stir up your super manly protective instincts? Huh?”

No one spoke and Adam may or may not have shrunk back a little as that untamed power was directed at him.

Noctis threw both his arms up and heat came off him in a wave, washing over Ignis, Adam and the two Crownsguard brave enough to stand in the vicinity. “Oh, I’m sorry I _raised_ my _voice_! Meanwhile Prompto is six knows where getting godsdamned _tortured_ …for no other reason than he fucking knows _me_!” Noctis thumped himself in the chest with a closed fist. “But yes, let’s all use our inside voices so no one’s feelings get hurt!”

Noctis stood heaving, glaring at each man in turn until they each shifted their gazes away. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He said lowly before he stalked to the back of the cabin and threw himself onto the unoccupied couch.

Ignis sighed quietly and pulled Adam back towards the kitchenette. “My apologies; he’s under a great deal of stress. Prompto means the world to his highness.”

“Yes, I’m beginning to see that.” Adam watched the young prince for a few moments before offering Ignis a wan smile. “It still doesn’t give him the right to speak to you that way.”

Ignis felt his cheeks flush despite himself. “Yes, well…he’s not usually like this. Noctis tends to be much more reserved. Bored, even.”

Adam glanced back over to the raven haired teen, who had taken to staring down a his phone. “Well, let us help him get his happy ending, shall we?”

Ignis and Adam sat back at the table, going back over the data from the search programs they were still running.

 

* * *

 

He was floating. Was that right? Everything felt pretty solid around him, but he had the distinct impression he was floating…drifting…gently swaying back and forth back and forth back and forth…

That was, of course, until he wasn’t. Not floating was jarring and loud and he’s pretty sure it caused his shoulder blade to press into his spleen…wait, were those even close together?

The sudden stillness sent the crawling things into a flurry of action and Prompto hated himself as he whimpered quietly. Above him, in the darkness, Crepitus chuckled meanly, reminding him of his weakness.

“ _Such a stupid pathetic thing…afraid of a few spiders_ ….”

He supposed nothing really mattered, now. Gladio was dead. Dead because of him.

Prompto knew he himself wouldn’t last much longer, so he felt that the sacrifice was rather pointless on the shield’s behalf. He was only supposed to die protecting Noctis. Not someone like Prompto.

“.. _such a waste, really…if only you were a little brighter, you wouldn’t be in this mess_ ….”

This time, when the larger man had shoved him in the crate, he trapped Prompto’s arms awkwardly beneath his knees, and he had no recourse when the curious spiders and other bugs began crawling across his face, dipping their long legs into the crease of his lips and tickling at the edges of his flared nostrils. His eyes were squeezed shut so tight that tiny colorful cloudbursts sparked in the darkness there, drifting…

“… _don’t worry, boy, it will all end soon_...”

Prompto hoped he was right.

 

* * *

 

Once she had returned to the area where the accident had taken place, Iris had to take to the back alleys. The place was crawling with Citadel officials.

In the few hours since they had left the scene, Cor had organized a door to door canvas of the area. Crownsguard and even a few Glaive were approaching everyone in the streets with photos of Prompto, Crepitus Mael, and Lentium Swal.

She shadowed Crowe Altius for a while, since she always seemed to know what she was doing. (Iris definitely wanted to be Crowe when she grew up) She especially perked up when Crowe suddenly stopped, putting a hand to her ear and talked to another Glaive over the comm.

Though she couldn’t tell exactly what was being said, she knew it had to be important because Crowe immediately set off down the alley that Lentium had ducked into earlier. Iris scrambled up a drainpipe and onto the roof of the small office building across from the homeless center and began to follow Crowe down a series of back alleys and side streets via the rooftops. They had gone perhaps half a mile when Crowe left the alleyways and strode towards a squat building on its very own piece of land.

Like most buildings in the area, it looked more or less abandoned. Iris was preparing to shimmy down the fire escape to follow when she was abruptly grabbed from behind, a rough hand clapping over her mouth. “Don’t scream.” A gruff voice intoned in her ear; hot breath blowing across her face.

Fuck.

_Gladio was going to be so pissed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, some of you must be saying 'El, you are the devil. I love you, but you are pure satan. Where is my comfort? Where?!' I still promise it is coming. My question is, how much longer to you guys really want this? I can probably finish this up in the next few chapters with all the glorious retribution and comfort you desire, but I was thinking of doing like a recovery companion piece to kind of explore the aftermath, cause that can really be like another five or more chapters on its own. If you have not noticed, I have been very mean to the sunshine boy and he may need some help to be all bright again after all is said and done. Soo yah? nah? meh?


	11. chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy crap, guys, this is up to eleven chapters. ELEVEN. I didn't know I had it in me! I didn't know you had it in you to stick with it so long!! Sorry for the longer time to update, I have been busier than usual. Plus some of you writers out there keep updating your amazing fics and I then HAVE to read them, of course. AND I stumbled upon (searched for vigorously) a certain NSFW art blog and I about didn't get this chap out today. soooooo. yeah. Enjoy!

Adam approached Ignis in the kitchenette. The studious gentleman had spent the last several minutes alone, leaned up against the counter, exchanging texts with someone. Now, he’d slipped the device in his pocket and had set about getting coffee made.

Adam approached quietly and ran his hands lightly down solid shoulders and arms, leaned into Ignis’ warm back and stood on tip toe to whisper into the taller man’s ear, “You should let me rub out all this… _tension_.” He let a little sex creep into his voice; a promise.

Ignis stiffened at his touch and sidestepped out of his grasp. He glanced around the cabin before resting his cool gaze on Adam’s own questioning eyes. “Apologies, but this is neither the time nor place for such activities. And,” he held up one well manicured hand to stop Adam’s protests, “if the comment was made in jest, it was in poor taste and I do not appreciate it.”

Adam drew himself up and affected an apologetic air. “You’re right, of course. I just saw you here, looking distraught, and I just thought to myself that you needed a little bit of distraction. I did not intend to upset you.”

Ignis offered him a small tight smile. “It is fine. My stress levels are just a bit too high, and …I don’t deal well with that. I am sorry if I upset you.”

“Understandable. How about I leave you to your business, and I will just review some more information I have located on this Mael and Swal? I’ll compile a list of possible locations for you and your people.” Adam flashed his most charming smile and leaned forward to brush a swift kiss across Ignis’ jaw.

The bespectacled man smiled warmly. “Yes, thank you. I will be with you shortly. We’ll be landing soon, so you may want to get your things together.”

Adam’s smile faltered slightly. “What do you mean, ‘soon’? I thought we were about ten hours out still.”

“Oh, it’s these new engines,” Ignis waved flippantly in the general direction of the rear of the airship. “Gets you there in half the time with twice energy. But, a smooth ride, nonetheless.”

Adam nodded absently, heading back to his seat as Ignis turned back to the coffee maker.

Fuck.

 

* * *

 

 

Noctis hadn’t uttered another word in the two hours since his outburst. He’d barely moved; just continued staring at his phone. No one was brave (stupid) enough to approach him.

Until now.

Ignis strode confidently over to the prince and stood in front of him until the teen acknowledged his presence with a grunt.

From his position, Ignis was able to view the upside down version of the photo the prince had been preoccupied with for the previous stretch of silence. It was one Ignis himself had taken of them in front of a fountain in the Citadel gardens. The Prompto in the photo with the care free grin did not know that two seconds after the picture was taken, he’d be shoved into the water by his best friend. He didn’t know that two months later, he’d be taken by some nefarious fiends and changed forever at their callous hands.

In his heart of hearts, Ignis knew they’d never get that Prompto back, even if they recovered him alive.

Ignis swallowed past a lump in his throat and held out a steaming cup of coffee. “We’ll be landing soon.”

Noctis did not say a word. His only movement was to tap the screen of the photo when the backlight dimmed, letting him know it was about to go into sleep mode.

Ignis shook the cup a little, careful not to let any slosh out onto his shoes. “Seven sugars and it’s more than half cream. Just how you like it.”

Noctis finally tore his eyes from the screen and met those of his adviser.

Ignis’ heart instantly broke for the prince. Noctis’ bottom lip trembled and his midnight eyes glistened with unshed tears. “Sorry I yelled at you,” he whispered, but did not continue. Did not reach out for the coffee. Did not move at all. The screen on his phone went black.

“It’s quite alright, your highness. Please, take the coffee. It will help soothe your nerves.”

Noctis quirked a half smile at him. “Oh, did you sneak booze in it or something?”

“Yes, actually. Bourbon.” Ignis offered the cup again.

“Shit, Iggy.” Noctis took it, sniffing the liquid a little before taking an experimental sip.

“There’s not enough in there to make you inebriated, just enough to help take the edge off. Maybe keep you from scaring the Crownsguard. And Adam.”

“…and you?”

Ignis smiled softly and sat down next to his prince. “You don’t scare me, your highness. However, I dare say that I have done you a disservice in not pressing you to practice your magic skills more often.”

Noctis shifted closer to Ignis, who wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulders. The prince took a longer drink of his coffee and leaned his head back against his adviser’s shoulder. “I was awake, you know.”

Ignis shook his head, murmuring that he wasn’t sure what the prince was referring to.

Noctis shrunk into him further, growing quieter. “When Adam was telling you about the man who had Prom. Listing off all the things he’d been arrested for. I was already so scared of what was being done to him, and now that I know—“ here he paused to collect himself, and drained he rest of his cup.

“We’ll get him back—“

“Don’t patronize me, Ignis!” Noctis’ words bit, but he didn’t remove himself from the comfort of his adviser’s embrace. If anything, he snuggled deeper. “Now that I know exactly what he did…what that man has forced my friend to do…all I can think of is getting Prom back and then killing this man slowly. I want it to last for days.”

“I assure you that I have similar sentiments.” Ignis squeezed Noctis’ shoulder. “Unfortunately, we are to go directly to the Citadel. I…don’t think that is something we will be able to work around. Your father has ordered quite a few glaives to meet us. Nyx Ulric is now to be your personal escort until Gladio is cleared for duty.”

“Great, yet another babysitter. I just want to get out there and find Prom, Iggy.”

Ignis sighed deeply. “I know. Believe me, I had to talk him down from assigning you to Clarus and locking you in your room until this is all done.”

“How much longer till we land?” “Not long, now. Less than an hour. I’ll be back; I need to contact Cor and check in. Apparently young Iris has slipped out of the manor and decided to take part in the investigation.”

“What?!” Noctis’ shout brought the attention of the Crownsguard, who glanced amongst themselves uneasily. (they had been quietly discussing on how best to subdue the prince without getting themselves executed for their troubles, and they were all a bit nervous)

Ignis stood and waved off the question. “Surveillance has already confirmed she is in the vicinity of where the investigation is currently taking place, it’s just a matter of actually finding her, now.”

Noctis shook his head ruefully. “Cor’s going to have his hands full when she joins the guard.”

“Hmm, yes, well it seems that we are all in quite a bit of hot water.” Ignis adjusted his glasses and held out his hand to take the now empty cup. He might have to make one of those for himself before they land.

He silently agreed with the prince's whispered "worth it" as he walked away.

 

* * *

 

 

When Prompto opened his eyes, it was dark and cramped and skittering creatures still climbed about his sweat slicked flesh. The next time the crate opened, Prompto decided, he would be ready. His plan was to spring up and take his captor by surprise, hopefully knock him out and run. He knew he wouldn’t get far, but if he could get out to where just one other person saw him; someone who would help him—

When Prompto opened his eyes, he was wet. Cold. Huddled in the corner of a dirty stand up shower. The green haired man…his name escaped Prompto’s addled brain…was spraying him with cold water. The man’s words were muffled and he was rough, yanking at Prompto’s hair to force him forward until he slowly collapsed on his front against the cracked tiles. The drain wasn’t fully working, and the swirl of standing water and blood and filth leaked into the corner of his open mouth, and he drank some reflexively, then greedily, then—

When Prompto opened his eyes, he was on the floor under a bright light. Still wet. Someone was touching his legs, gripping one of his ankles tight. He tried to say something; tried to kick, but was rewarded with a hard slap to his inner thigh. Dimly he realized the man was tugging a pair of sweat pants _on_ him. That didn’t stop the crazed beating of his heart when rough calloused hands gripped the tender bruised flesh of his hips and his breaths came faster and faster until the light above him faded out to nothing—

When Prompto opened his eyes, he was on his knees on a wooden floor. It smelled… odd. Like hay and old feathers. Each arm was bound up in a rope attached to a pole on either side of him. Ahead, the large double doors were cracked open and a sliver of night sky wavered in his vision—

When Prompto opened his eyes, Crepitus stood above him, running his fingers gently through his now slightly cleaner blond tresses. The swarthy man smiled and murmured something Prompto couldn’t hear; but he knew what the man wanted. He had to be struck several times before he would comply. He squeezed his eyes tight as his mouth and throat were filled and assaulted with repeated rough thrusts. Not being able to breathe, to scream, hell, not being able to take it anymore, Prompto bit down. Blood that was not his own dribbled down his chin and he grinned through his fevered haze. Crepitus flew at him, rage flashing across his features and a roar ripping from this throat—

Prompto did not open his eyes again for a long time after that.

 

* * *

 

“I’m going to put you down, now. But don’t scream. Ok? I’m not going to hurt you.” The rough voice continued, gripping Iris tightly, but not painfully. She nodded against the hand.

As promised, she was released, and she abruptly swung herself around and fell into a fighting stance. The man before her was dressed shabbily in grays and browns and his long silvery hair and beard hung down his front in greasy matted snarls. Unexpectedly, he smelled of rain.

He held his hands up and took a step back for good measure. “I don’t wanna hurt you, girl. I’m not that way. I don’t wanna hurt nobody, no how, Ok?” 

Iris cocked her head to the side and frowned, but did not relax her stance.

He slowly let down his hands and gestured out at the building she had been about to follow Crowe into. “They’re gone, those men. They took that boy with them. Took him out in a crate a while ago. Those folk with the king ain’t gonna find them.” His face darkened considerably. “Now they, those men; got no qualms about hurting kids. They done a number on that one, too. Could hear him screaming clear up here.”

“Why didn’t you ever call anyone to help?” Iris relaxed from ready to fight to ready to scold, which actually made her countenance more terrifying.

He smiled sadly at her. “This here is the refugee district, don’t you know? Doesn’t do to call the law down here. Half the time they don’t wanna help, and the other half of the time, you’d get killed for your trouble after they leave.”

“Do you know where they took him?” Iris asked quietly; hopefully.

“No and yes. I mean, I have an idea. I’ve heard one of them talking, before, about an abandoned ranch out in the hills near the wall. One’s they don’t wanna keep here, they take out there.”

Iris took in a deep breath and walked back towards the ledge of the building, gazing out at the squat structure across the way. Another Glaive was now roaming the property, Crowe presumably inside.

“Why are you telling me this, why not tell them?” She asked, gesturing down towards the soldiers.

“I know you from the shelter. You…you’re a good person. Always look folks in the eye when you talk to 'em. It’s nice. You’re nice. I figure…if you’re looking for that poor kid that he’s probably nice, too.” He shook his head sadly. “Ain’t nobody deserves the things being done to that boy.”

Iris leaned against the concrete wall of the edge of the building again and swore. When she looked down, it was right at Crowe Altius looking right back up at her. The Kingsglaive spoke into her comm, not breaking eye contact with the girl.

Iris turned back around to thank the old man for his help once she recognized that Crowe was readying herself to warp up to the roof. But the man had melted away into the gathering shadows as if he’d never been there at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chap didn't have lot of action, but hey at least Noct got a little comfort, right? RIGHT? I mean, how much more can I possibly do to these boys?? 
> 
> a lot. the answer is a lot. I hope you will stick around for more! thanks for reading! 
> 
> Stay brutal.


	12. chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. My apologies for the late update. This chapter hated me.  
> 2\. If you are not already, you should DEFINITELY be imagining Adam as none other than Adam Croasdell; as his original position was a tongue in cheek 'iggy on iggy action' kind of side joke before he took a life of his own. He was not meant to make it out of chapter two.  
> 3\. we're entering the homestretch! there should be only two/three more chapters and maybe an epilog after this; then at a later date a comfort companion piece will be written. As always, you guys are amazing and I love you. Thanks for everything!

“Are we going to have to pull every Glaive and Crownsguard in Insomnia off their duties to babysit the lot of you?! Just what in Ifrit’s fiery asshole did you think you were doing?”

To say Cor was pissed would be putting it mildly. Very mildly.

He actually met them at the landing strip with Iris and Gladiolus and a few Glaives tow. The Crownsguard Marshal paced in front of them, fury coming off him in waves.

Iris stood next to her brother, who was granted a chair due to his limp. Though mostly healed, he’d been directed to keep off his leg as much as possible for a few days, and they’d outfitted him with a sturdy cane.

Ignis nervously cleared his throat. “We did not know what the men wanted, and thought since they were trying to keep his disappearance quiet that we would—“

“Do _my_ fucking job! You’re a bunch of kids!” Cor turned away, muttering to himself and rubbing his temples, though a few words and phrases such as ‘godsfuckingdamnit’ and ‘raving bunch of ignoramuses’ filtered back to them.

He took a deep breath and whirled around again, looking slightly less like he would kill them all. “Look, I know you’re worried and that you were only doing what you thought was right. But, you should have known better. Ignis,” he turned his stormy gaze on the adviser, “ _you_ should have known better, at least. But no,” he shook his head and glared out at nothing. “No, you didn’t even report his disappearance.”

Noctis, who stood between Gladiolus and Ignis, was barely keeping his rage in check. He surprised himself with how calm he sounded when he finally found his voice. “Do you at least have any leads on him? Look, we know we fucked up, _we_ _know_. None of that is important now. Finding Prompto is. Please, Cor.”

They stared each other down for several intense moments before Cor relented. “We didn’t find much. When we inspected the property, they had obviously just left. Since only the main roads have highway cameras, it’s impossible to determine what vehicle they left in, and none of the locals are talking. There weren’t any personal affects in the place; it was practically empty except a few scrap pieces of metal and wood in the basement.” He didn’t mention the bloodstains on the table and floor. He’d watched the videos, and knew they most likely did as well. There was no reason to bring it up.

“But what about what the old man said?” Iris piped up bravely, but blushed and shrank back against her brother when a roomful of eyes turned towards her.

“That they could _possibly_ be in an abandoned ranch _somewhere_? Near the wall? Look Lady Amacitia, I understand you want to help; respect it even. But that’s not much to go on. The wall is a big place and it’s not exactly over populated. That description fits a lot of places, and your friend didn’t stick around long enough to give more details.” Iris’ face fell and Gladiolus patted her arm reassuringly.

Cor wiped his hand down his face and stared at the floor for a long moment. “All of you are to report to the Citadel immediately. You are to remain inside and with your assigned Glaive or Crownsguard at all times until this travesty has been resolved. Do I make myself clear?”

Adam strode forward with a confidence that came with not knowing who the hell he was speaking to. “Um, excuse me, sir, but I am neither a child, a citizen of Lucis, nor an employee of the Crown. You don’t seriously expect me to go along with these orders of yours, do you?”

Cor stared him down for a moment, then turned to the group at large, hooking a thumb towards the rumpled dark haired man. “Someone mind explaining who this is and why he’s here?”

Ignis cleared his throat and nervously pushed his glasses up his nose. “Marshal, this is Adam Corvusagri; CEO of—“

“That was fucking rhetorical, Ignis. If he’s in any way involved, he’s reporting to the Citadel.”

And then Cor simply walked away.

* * *

 

Ignis was not overly thrilled about being trailed by Crowe, but he supposed it could be worse. At least she mostly kept to herself.

Right now, she stood guard near the door of the office of one Captio Podex, the top tech talent in the Citadel. He was generally confident and unaffected, but this situation seemed to have him rather rattled. He was looking a little green around the gills having recently viewed just a little of the video feed that was provided him for research. He was shorter than Ignis by good deal; perhaps even shorter than Prompto; and just as skinny. His deep orangy hair was perhaps a little too long, but it suited him. Every time Ignis saw him, he had a different pair of glasses; today’s were overly large and overly lime green. “This is a whole fucked up situation, pardon my language, Count Scientia. With all due respect, why didn’t you call in for a trace? I mean, they were using his phone; we would have been able to track it.”

Ignis shook his head. “No, I had someone on that; he said Prompto must have somehow turned off the GPS.”

Captio frowned up at his long time friend. “Nuh uh. There’s no way. I set the specialized GPS up on his phone myself, and he knows how important it is to keep active. I mean, he’s terrified of you! He stuttered the whole time about how he wouldn’t let you down and showed me all the little tricks he did on the phone to help make sure it couldn’t be used if it fell in the wrong hands.”

He spun his chair back around to his computer, pointing at a tab on the screen. “I’ve got it all set up, now. If the phone turns back on, we’ll find him.”

Ignis dug his fingers in tightly to the back of the chair, narrowing his eyes. “You’re positive about this?”

Captio nodded emphatically. “Yeah. I’ll be keeping watch on it ‘round the clock, now. I know you’re not—ah—allowed to participate in the investigation, but I’ll be happy to notify you if I see anything.”

Ignis reached out and squeezed the shorter man’s shoulder. “I would greatly appreciate that.” He then turned to Crowe and gestured that he’d be on his way out, now.

As she fell into step behind him, he told her to contact at least two more Glaives and have them meet with them at the hall to the guest wing of the citadel.

He called down to the hold and had them ready a cell.

* * *

 

Nyx was bored. Like _bored_ bored.

Usually, anytime he was assigned to the prince and his personal entourage, he was guaranteed to have at least an entertaining time. But, under these circumstances, everyone was a bit somber.

He’d never met the Argentum kid before, but he heard good things. He was more than a little perturbed that he was pulled off the investigation for royal babysitting duties, but he understood the need.

Upon arriving to the Citadel, Noctis had taken to his rooms immediately, leaving everyone else behind. Nyx followed, of course, and now was watching over the prince’s back. Literally. The sullen teen had wrapped himself up in his blankets and was pointedly facing away from Nyx, looking at his phone. He’d been mostly silent other than a few stifled sniffles, which they both pretended weren’t happening.

After two full hours of this, Nyx was contemplating pulling out his own phone to keep himself entertained when Noctis sat bolt upright staring wide eyed at the glowing screen.

The Glaive strode forward, hand grabbing for his weapon when he noticed the prince’s attention was still solely on his phone.

“What’s going on?” He stopped short of directly invading the prince’s privacy.

Noctis’ eyes were haunted. “I just got another video.”

“Oh. _OH_. I should call—“

“No! Don’t…don’t call anyone yet. If you do, they won’t let me watch it. I need to watch it. I have to be there for him.”

He knew he shouldn’t, but…hell. The kid looked so distraught. He supposed it wouldn’t do any harm to let him watch it before calling it in. “Fine. You, ah, you want me to watch it with you?”

Noctis shrugged one shoulder, but made no move to deter him, so Nyx stepped a little closer so he could view the screen as well.

He’d been briefed regarding what information they had on the kidnappers and had been told what types of tortures the boy had gone through, but it did not prepare him for the video.

He’d seen war prisoners in better condition.

The blond boy was bound to two tethering poles in an old barn. These were designed to keep chocobos still as they were being groomed; his arms were tied up with blood stained rope and seemed to be bearing the bulk of his weight, though he was on his knees.

Various lacerations and bruises decorated the majority of visible flesh and what he could see of his face was puffy and bruised. It was subtle, but his entire body shook lightly.

The camera moved closer and a figure that could only be seen from the chest down walked up behind the boy and grabbed a handful of his hair to yank his head up.

The prince’s breaths came out quicker and his hands began to tremble at the full view of Prompto’s battered face. It was a mosaic of blacks and yellows and greens and rusted flakes of dried blood.

The hand holding his hair shook his head violently, and Prompto opened on red rimmed eye, barely able to keep it focused on anything. “You…you keep d-doing stuff like that and imma…imma puke my guts out.” Prompto shot a bloody grin to the person holding the camera. “And then whe-where would we be?”

“Hmm,” the disembodied voice intoned, “well I suppose that would save me the trouble of ripping them out myself.”

Prompto made a movement that would have been a shrug if his body would have been capable of pulling it off. “Whatever makes y-your day easier.”

“Hmm, look at how accommodating you are! Please, do tell me what has caused this turn of events?” Prompto made the odd shrug again. “Figured it out s’all.”

“Have you, now? Do tell.” The man behind Prompto shoved his head forward and walked towards the back of the room. Now that he was in the distance, he was fully in frame over Prompto’s shoulder. The green hair signified him as Lentium Swal. He disappeared through a small door though his shadow stretched out across the wooden floorboards as he rummaged in the room.

It was obviously hard for the boy to hold his head up on his own, so he rolled it to the side and rested his head against his shoulder. “Y..you stopped asking me questions a lon-long time ago. You know I know …you know…? I don’t know any-anything. At this p-point, you’re jus…just keeping me around for …fun.”

“Well, you may be right at that.” The disembodied hand appeared again, caressing long fingers down the side of Prompto’s face. “Now that we know your prince has lost interest in his little _pet_ , we can have all the fun we want.”

Prompto’s battered face screwed up and he emitted a soft scoff of disbelief.

“Oh, did we not tell you? We contacted your ‘friend’ after it became apparent that they were aware of your disappearance. You see, after his shield _died_ trying to find you, they chocked you up to a loss and have ceased further investigation. They can’t very well keep risking important Citadel resources and personnel on a _Niff_ refugee. How would that look to all the _real_ Lucians?

“I even asked for a modest price for your return, and they turned their noses up at the offer. Seems you aren’t even worth a few lousy gil.”

Prompto’s thin chest heaved as he struggled to keep his expression neutral. “Thass ok.” Prompto bit his swollen lower lip and nodded. “Yeah.. thass ok. S’long as Noct stays safe. S’long as…as I don’ hurt him.”

“Oh, yes. You have proven yourself quite the loyal pet for his highness. He would possibly be proud if he could be moved to care.” Crepitus’ fingers lingered on Prompto’s forehead. “Feels like your fever is coming back up. After your punishment, I’ll have Lentium take care of that. Perhaps if we dunk you instead of simply spraying you down, the fever will break. I do hope so; I’d like for you to survive a bit longer.” He patted Prompto’s cheek roughly and then the camera shifted, taking in Lentium, who had rejoined the room. It continued to pan out, as Crepitus walked backwards towards the double barn doors. Behind Prompto, the green haired man unfurled a long leather whip and flung it forward across Prompto’s already lacerated back. He struck again and again as the camera continued outside until it took in the barn as a whole and Prompto and Lentium were tiny moving shadows in the dull orange light. The camera then flipped around to take in Crepitus’ smug face; his strange silvery eyes glistening in the moonlight.

“Listen to that sweet symphony of misery, highness.” He closed his eyes and the audio still picked up the whistle of the whip and Prompto’s rough pained cries.

The man smiled softly to himself and Nyx had a sudden need to punch that man in the face.

Noctis did not move, did not blink. He sat stock still, staring at the screen.

Crepitus opened his eyes again. “I propose a trade.”

* * *

 

Ignis strode into his chambers, where Adam had set up his computers and was currently being kept company by a member of the Crownsguard that the adviser was unfamiliar with.

It was no matter. His target was standing near the window, phone in hand. He smiled warmly as Ignis came towards him, two Glaive in tow.

Without preamble, the bespectacled man whipped up his right leg, kicking the wrist holding the phone; this flew into the air and Ignis snatched it before Adam had even registered what was happening.

He turned smoothly to hand the device back to Crowe. “Keep it on. We may not get the password out of him if it goes off.”

Adam held his now sore wrist, a confused expression on his handsome face. “What’s going on, Ig?”

With a speed that may have rivaled Noctis’ warp ability, Ignis had Adam against the wall, one hand around his throat. _“I trusted you.”_  

Adam had his hands up, placating. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! What the fuck is going on?”

Ignis fisted both hands into Adam’s jacket and lifted him a few inches off the floor before slamming him against the wall. “Where is he?!”

Adam’s face fell into an evil smirk. “Now if I told you that, it’d ruin all the fun, wouldn’t it?”

* * *

 

There were flashes; distant thunder.The scent of rain.

He was lying in a grassy field, the tall green blades dancing in his peripherals as he stared up at the darkening sky. A storm was coming, and if he didn’t move, he’d probably drown here on the ground, gaping stupidly up at his death literally raining down.

It was hard to find a reason to care.

His whole body ached. He was weak.Useless.

Something nudged against his foot.

He hoped it was some monster come to finish him off; be it a roaming coerl or Crepitus himself, it made no difference.

The nudge became a shove and was accompanied by a rumble that may have been the clearing of a throat, or may have been a warning from the heavens of the impending downpour.

He gently rolled his head until the owner of the insistent appendage became visible. An old man; tall—taller even than even Gladio—with long silvery hair and beard that flowed down the front of his tattered robes--stood looking at him with a neutral expression.

“You need to go back inside. You won’t survive the storm.” The man’s mouth never moved, but Prompto heard him all the same.

Prompto would have laughed if he was capable. Instead a pitiful croak accompanied the sardonic curl to his chapped lips. “I..I won’t surv..ive the barn…” the rest of his sentence was stolen by a fit of coughing that brightened the edges of his vision.

The old man reached down and grabbed him gently by his bruised and aching ribs, righting him on his feet and holding him steady for a moment before he could do it on his own.

With a hand still on his shoulder, the old man gestured towards the gathering darkness. In the distance, the rain had already started, and everything the water touched fizzled and dissolved into nothingness.

If he stood here long enough, it would overtake him, and everything could fizzle and fade for him, too.

He took a step towards it. Then another. Perhaps he could meet it half way…

The large hand on his shoulder prevented him from going further. “You don’t want that. You know you don’t.”

Prompto sighed. “No. But. It’s the only way it will stop.”

The fingers squeezed, but miraculously there was no pain. It was almost comforting.

“No, you’re so much stronger than you think. Go back to the barn. Look—“ a long arm swept up, pointing to a patch of sky not yet taken over by the heavy clouds. There, the lights of Insomnia still twinkled, and as he watched, a streak of blue glimmered in and out of existence like a shooting star cutting through the fabric of space. Moments later, another followed. “They’re coming for you. Don’t make them waste their time. You wouldn’t want Noctis to be disappointed, would you?”

Prompto’s shoulders began to shake as his body was wracked by dry sobs. Dutifully, he turned back. The barn was a little ways up a gentle slope; the only light in the steadily closing darkness.

He allowed the old man to guide him back. Tentatively, he reached forward and opened the double doors.

In the center of the barn were three figures.

The first was a man made of darkness. His features twisted between man and beast and back again seamlessly; endlessly. His body was swirling shadows and steam.

The second was a man made of fear. He was all whites and yellows and greens melting together and he _hated_ ; he hated so strongly it hurt.

The third was a boy made of sorrow. His soul was as blue and lonely as a cloudless sky and he was filled with such a want to shine that he was near bursting.

The others had placed a black cloth bag over his head and tied it off at the neck with a tight leather band.

Prompto stared up at the old man uncertainly.

“It won’t be long now.” he promised.

Prompto shook his head. “Noctis won’t come for me.”

The old man frowned down at him, but said nothing. Instead it was the man of shadow that spoke as low rumbles coalesced into words from a new voice. “What are you muttering about, kid?”

Prompto didn’t want to be that Prompto again. The two men had dragged a metal tub out to the center of the barn, and had removed the boy’s sweatpants, leaving the boy wearing only the black bag fastened to his head.

The man of fear lifted the boy, readying to drop him in the tub.

Prompto wanted to turn and run away into the steadily growing nothing outside the barn doors. He could hear it; the storm was so close now.

But then Noctis’ face loomed in his mind’s eye. The soft smiles he saved only for those closest to him. His midnight eyes that sparkled whenever Prompto made a stupid pun. The wave of contentment that washed over him when the prince would inevitably wrap himself around Prompto’s slim frame during sleepovers, attempting to usurp his warmth.

For Noctis, Prompto would stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI Captio Podex is loosely translated in latin to be 'smart ass'. I liked Captio. How about you?
> 
> You guys made Adam evil. See, I just wanted to give Iggy a hot dude to have a fling with, but noooo you had to go and give me ideas and make me think about stuff and whatnot. You have no one to blame but yourselves.


	13. chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellloooooo again!! As always, thank you for your lovely comments, they truly keep me posting. I'm so thrilled you guys are loving this so much, and I'm a little sad it's drawing to its conclusion (yes, there will be comfort, i promise, and I've already basically got the companion piece mapped out in my head, so it will start getting posted in a few weeks after this one officially ends. On with the story!

When Ignis had first met Adam, they both just happened to be getting coffee in the same shop near the Citadel. 

Well, that’s not entirely true.  Though Ignis was not much for social media or celebrity gossip, he did find himself following the handsome young tech mogul on various platforms.  At first, he told himself that it was because Adam was one of the top names in military defense and technology, and it would be good to keep an eye on such a person.  Later, he admitted to himself the main reason he followed Adam was because Ignis found him to be ridiculously attractive in every way.

Adam Corvusagri was intelligent, funny, charitable, successful, and more than easy on the eyes. In all his interviews, he was polite, well mannered, and charming. 

It was a far cry from what Ignis was used to dealing with, to say the least.  Though he loved Noctis and the others dearly, they weren’t much for polite conversation or refined tastes.  

When he learned Adam was spending a few weeks in Insomnia, Ignis decided to take action.  Though he wasn’t expecting much, he did plan to bump into the young tech mogul; physically if necessary. 

So when Adam began posting photos to his Instagram account showing the divine flaky pastries and coffee from a shop near the citadel, the adviser decided to stalk him…

Well, perhaps ‘stalk’ was a bit harsh of a word.  The adviser did happen to frequent the same shop; and thus he simply tweaked his schedule to coincide with the general timeframe of Adam’s delectable posts. 

That morning, Ignis dressed in his crispest white dress shirt and sleekest gray slacks. Knowing Adam preferred green, he chose a dark forest vest with matching tie. 

He spotted his prey the moment he walked in; Adam dressed not dissimilarly to himself in tailored black dress pants and a white button up—though his was open at the collar and the hem was not tightly tucked in.  That, coupled with the careless ‘man bun’ he had his black hair pulled into—not to mention the 5 o’clock shadow he was sporting at 8 AM—gave him a rumpled kind of refinement that got Ignis a bit hot under the collar.

_This had been a mistake._

Ignis’ face reddened at simply being in the same room as the slightly older and wildly more attractive man.  Of course someone like that would never look at Ignis twice, with his (almost invisible but enormously huge to a teen) acne scars and his overly stern features. He was eighteen for six sake and dressed like a ninety year old; he was just going to get his coffee and leave…

Until Adam approached him near the dessert case.  He smiled charmingly at Ignis and told him he looked like a man who really knew his pastries and asked him to recommend something delicious.

Food.  Now _there_ was a subject with which Ignis was comfortable.  And, after convincing Adam to try the chocolate jalapeño baklava, they had a lovely conversation over their dessert-for-breakfast, which turned into a working lunch for the both of them, and eventually a candle lit dinner that evening. 

In those few weeks together, they had late dinners nearly every night, as Ignis did have the prince to attend to and Adam had his meetings.

When they parted ways, it was with a promise to see each other again. In the months leading up to his and Noctis’ trip to Accordo, he spoke with Adam frequently; sharing every day aggravations and encouragements.  It was starting to feel like something real to him.

That was until today, of course.

Before they had even landed, he’d begun to suspect Adam was not all he seemed.

This vague suspicion that had been building for hours was confirmed when Cor became involved with the investigation.  Though he was understandably angry over the entire situation, Cor had deemed to share information with Ignis so they could confer and compile and hopefully find Prompto.

The first file he’d sent Ignis was on Lentium Swal.  The man whom Adam referred to as a ‘ghost’.  It turned out the man had an extensive history with the law, starting as young as nine when he robbed an old woman in the street.  He’d gone to a juvenile detention hall for most of his later school career after having savagely beaten two Niff refugee children in his middleschool.

Apparently, this information had been easy to find.  That is how Cor and the others in the investigation located the building where Prompto was originally being held so quickly.

Ignis had been so stupid not to contact them.  He’d been so stupid to trust Adam.

But he was going to fix it.

 

* * *

 

 

 “I propose a trade.”

Nyx knew what was coming next. Either they were working together with the man that had been taken into custody, and were going to trade Prompto for him, or—

Crepitus’ slick voice continued, punctuated by the distant cries of his captive. “We have grown bored of this little _Niff_   _scum_ and have decided to do away with him.  He’s proven himself to be nothing more than a delightful distraction.  But, I _could_ be persuaded to let him live.  If you, Prince Noctis, take his place.”

The camera angle flipped back to the barn and moved closer to the door.  Inside, the cries had stopped, Prompto having lost consciousness.   Lentium used a dagger to cut him free, in no way attempting to stop the boy’s face-first topple into the floor boards.

Noctis’ stomach twisted painfully as he watched the stocky green haired man level a kick into Prompto’s side, flipping onto his bloody back.  The blond head listed bonelessly; the irregular hitching of his chest his only sign of life.

The angle flipped back to Crepitus’ face again just as Lentium was reaching down to Prompto.

“You have one hour to reach a designated location.  You will come alone.  Once there, you will initiate a video chat with the number supplied to you at the end of the video. Do not bother trying to contact this phone again; once I send the video, it will be destroyed.”

Crepitus’ eyes grew dark, a sinister gleam backlighting the already unsettling silver shine.  “Know this, your majesty; I will give the boy _no_ reprieve, just as his kind do to us.  His torment will continue unabated until he either dies, or you have come to offer yourself to me.”

Noctis scrambled for a paper and pen to write down the information given.  He then got out of bed and rushed around the room, strapping his boots back on sans socks and rummaging around in his closet, dropping a few potions and ethers he had lying around into his armiger.

Nyx cleared his throat, trying to gain the royal’s attention, but he was ignored.

“I’ll just contact Leonis now about the video.  You need to settle down, your majesty.  I know you’re upset—“

“I’m fucking _going_ , Nyx.  You can’t stop me.” Noctis had gone beyond rage to an eerie calm, his eyes flickering to maroon and staying there. 

He plucked a sword from its anchor on the wall.  Though kept as a decorative piece, it was still a functional and well taken care of blade; a remnant of a mother he couldn’t recall.

“I’m going to kill them all.”  He stated it not as a threat or challenge, but as a cold hard fact.  And Nyx didn’t doubt him, but he couldn’t let him go. 

He took a tentative step forward, trying not to spook the teen into running. He really didn’t want to use force.  “Look, your highness, you have to think about this with a level head.  They are obviously setting a trap.  You can’t just go charging in—“

Noctis’ left hand darted forward, fisting into Nyx’ jacket, his maroon gaze sparking in rage.  “Have you ever failed someone, Nyx?  Because we fucking _failed_ Prompto.  This is my fault.  We should have called Cor from the beginning.  Hell, we should have trained him to protect himself more; had a security detail for him.  But no; we left him open to attack and now someone has him and he is going to fucking _die_ , Nyx.  He’s going to die and I have the chance to save him.  Don’t you get it?”

Nyx was assaulted by visions of his sister, but he pushed them aside.  “I can’t just let you go out there alone, highness.  It is my duty to guard you.”

Noctis sighed, turning away.  Then he shot a wicked grin over his shoulder.  “Well, it’s going to be hard for you to guard me from way back here.”  And then the little shit took off for his balcony doors, barreled through them and launched his sword into the night, following it a split second later in a streak of white-blue energy.

 Caught flatfooted and slow to react, Nyx let out a litany of curses before pounding after the prince, throwing first one kukri and then another, warping after his impulsive asshole of a charge.

 

* * *

 

Ignis sat across from Adam, regarding him silently.  Crowe and another Glaive named Tredd guarded the door, standing behind the prisoner.

For his part, Adam had gone past charm to smarm.  An arrogant curve to his lips set Ignis’ shoulders to straightening. 

The tech mogul smiled roguishly.  “Hmm, and to think that just a few days ago, we were in the _opposite_ position.”  Adam held up his cuffed wrists and gave Ignis a wink.  “Am I going to enjoy this as much as you seemed to?”

“Keep a civil tongue in your head, or I’ll rip it out.”  Crowe snarled from her place by the door, earning a huffed laugh.

Ignis flushed, but otherwise appeared unruffled; flipping open the manila file on the table between them.  “It will only be a matter of time before we find them; we have someone tracking the GPS—“

Adam frowned darkly. “I thought I told you that wouldn’t work.”

Ignis shot him a near petulant glance.  “You told me a lot of things.”

“I did at that.”  Adam leaned back and gestured vaguely to Ignis and his folder.  “So, what are we doing, here, Ig?  You going to have your goons beat some information out of me?  Maybe, do something a little more _unsavory_?”  He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.  “Maybe you want to reenact some of those scenes that your little friend—“

Crowe strode forward and grabbed Adam by the hair, preparing to slam his head into the table.  Ignis stopped her with an impatient wave.  Grumbling something decidedly unladylike under her breath, she shoved Adam’s head forward and stepped back to her place by the door.

“Let’s start from the beginning.  Why Prompto?”  Ignis folded his hands atop the folder and schooled his features into near indifference.

Adam leaned forward, the smug smile never leaving his face.  “Well, to start from the beginning, we’d have to go back further.  He wasn’t part of the original plan.  More of an afterthought.”  He narrowed his eyes and bobbed his head back and forth; considering.  “An insurance policy that ended up paying off quite nicely, if you will.”

Adam took in a deep breath and let that smile that would have went straight to Ignis’ cock 48 hours ago grace his features. “But, this was really about you.  Well, sort of.”

Ignis bit the inside of his lip to remind him to keep his confusion and temper in check. “How do you mean?”

Adam laughed long and hearty at his flabbergasted expression.  “Oh, Ig Ig Ig…do you not realize your worth?  All the knowledge you contain in that head of yours; all the military secrets and the schedules, the codes, the passwords.  You are a veritable fount of information that I, for one, would have loved to glean. Frankly, if you hadn’t been so closely guarded, it’d be you trussed up and aching now. Under _my_  steady loving hand, of course.”

He waved his cuffed hands between them.  “That’s what this was all about.  I came to Insomnia specifically to meet you, to begin this entire journey on which we find ourselves.” 

“The original intent was to get close to you and simply have you spill your secrets. But, you proved to be irritatingly silent in that respect.”  Adam’s eyes went far away and a soft curve graced his lips.  “Well, almost.  You were quite vocal about one subject.”

Ignis’ blood ran cold, for he knew exactly what the other man was referring to.  Though he loved Noctis and Prompto dearly, he could get rather…frustrated with their antics.  _Extremely_ may be a better word for it.  He often complained to Adam late into the night about how much time the prince spent with his commoner friend; and he had on more than one occasion posited that they may have more than friendly feelings for each other, even if they themselves were unaware.

Ignis stiffened in his seat, blanching at the revelation.  He’d practically held up a neon sign pointing to Prompto as a possible pawn for political games.

“But,” Adam continued, leaning forward, lowering his voice to a sultry tone.  “When I was unable to spirit you away whilst in Accordo, we had to rely on our secondary plan. See, even when we went out on our date, I spotted your tail.  And again back at the hotel. So, taking you was statistically out of the question. ”

Ignis remained silent, waging a war within himself.

 “Yes,” Adam grinned, “I see those wheels turning; you’re making the connections.”  He glanced behind him for second, cocking his head as if listening for something.  “I have to thank you, really.  You did reveal a juicy tidbit that helped with our plans.  Let’s just say it made certain things easier for certain people.”

Ignis raised an eyebrow.  “I highly doubt that I revealed anything of true import to you.”

“Oh, but Ig, you were the one who told me the boy’s _secret_.  You told me of his Niff heritage.  When I took this information back to my benefactor and let slip that I happened to have a cousin who, along with his partner, specialize in and enjoy terrorizing Niffs…”

“Lentium Swal.”  Ignis was stupid; so very stupid. He shook the thought away.  “But if your endgame was to get information, I still do not understand why you took Prompto.  You would have to know he had limited interactions with anything that would be of use to you.”

Adam grinned again, all arrogance and spite.  “Oh, but information is not the endgame, lover. It’s only a small piece of the whole; one we can frankly do without, now that other actions have been set into motion.”

“But, you said—“

Adam steepled his fingers as best he could, raising one eyebrow condescendingly.  “Tell me, Ignis; do you know how to catch a raven?”

Flabbergasted, Ignis spluttered a few nonsense words that only got Adam to chuckling again.

“You see, ravens are attracted to two things; shiny objects and carnage.  But, the raven we’re after is protected by a big bad wolf and a sly brown fox.  So, to lure him out from the protection of his brethren and the safety of his home, we simply took his favorite shiny object and turned it into a bloody _sniveling_ mess that would surely send its raven into a frenzy.”

Ignis swallowed thickly.  “No…no, Noctis is here safe in the citadel. Your plan failed.”

Adam snorted softly and glanced back towards the door and two Glaives.  “Is he, now?  Well, I suppose our plan failed, indeed.”

The door to the interrogation room slammed open, and Tredd immediately reacted to neutralize the threat, stopping short of a sleeper hold when he realized the person barreling in was a red faced and heaving Captio Podex.  Ignis shot to his feet, gesturing to the Glaive to put the smaller man down.

Captio leaned over dramatically, hands on his waist as he heaved in great breaths between words.  “Th..thanks…Ig..nis.  The, uh, _phew_ , the ah tracker…it’s scrambled but I think…I think we got the location.” 

The adviser to the future king was unable to reply before another set of pounding footsteps revealed a panicked female Crownsguard that Ignis didn’t recognize.  “Sirs, the Prince and Nyx Ulric are gone.  Neither are answering any hails from the Citadel.”

Ignis slammed his fists on the table in a rare overt display of rage.  Adam laughed again and Ignis had to resist the urge to break his nose.

Instead, he addressed the Crownsguard.  “You find Cor Leonis and tell him to meet me in the Podex’s office.”  She nodded once and swept out of the room with her task.  “Crowe, come with me and hail Ulric until he answers.  Tredd,” the Glaive shuffled forward, standing to Adam’s right.  “Find out who his benefactor is.  Use whatever methods you deem necessary.”

Tredd nodded.  “It would be my pleasure, sir.”

Ignis strode out of the room, slamming the door behind himself and Crowe.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Darkness was all he knew.

Had he been blinded?  No, that wasn’t right.  The bag.  They’d put a heavy cloth bag over his head and secured it with a leather strap.  It was held in place by a small padlock that bounced against the hollow of his throat every time he shifted. It was still damp, and his shallow breaths were causing an uncomfortably warm humidity from the neck up, while the rest of his naked body shivered in the chill night air.

He’d been more or less out of it for a while, now.  He vaguely remembered the scent of rain…but that may have had to do with the near drowning they’d put him through to try and reduce his fever.  For all their efforts, he felt no different.

They’d re-secured him to the tethering poles, this time using rusted chains that crisscrossed both arms nearly to his elbows and bit and pinched into his abused flesh, opening various cuts.

The ringing in his ear; his constant irritating companion for the last….forever…had gotten loud enough that it nearly drowned out every other sound.

So, he didn’t hear Crepitus’ speech as he approached Prompto from behind.  (thank the six for small miracles)

A sudden blast of cool air on his still wet hair had him rolling his head around, trying to get his face towards the opening.  Apparently, the bag had a zippered section near the top. He rolled his good eye up so far it hurt, trying to see through the small aperture.

Light, hazy and gray and dusted with shadows—though that may have been his vision—shook above him.  Then, as he stared, something curved was placed towards the zippered lip.

He was slow to react.  It wasn’t until the third tiny hard body plicked against his forehead that he realized what was happening and slammed his eye shut against the shower of insects.

_nonononononononononono_

There were so many of them.  Rough calloused hands began to rove over the exposed flesh of his shoulders and chest, making their way lower, but this was just a background disturbance in comparison to what was going on in the dark hood.

There were...so _so_ many.

Laughter sounded above the ringing, and as the small bit of light was stolen away again, the bugs began to crawl and the hands began their rough ministrations again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heheheh soooo yeah. did i get you?? Though adam is evil, he's not the mastermind :) Next up, the showdown!!! Stay brutal.
> 
> Also, if you haven't already, check out the link below to a wonderful fanart that Strawberrychocobo did for one of the earlier chapters :)))) it's so amazing and totally made my day, my week, my month, my year!


	14. chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied. I needed just a little more heartbreak. But, I think you will be pleased. Sorry it took so long :( ive been trying to readjust my sleep schedule for my new job, and it has been killing me. But, I have a three day weekend, so I hope to post the next chapter then, and also maybe just maybe a fun little thing ive been working on when this killed my soul too much.

Lentium watched as Crepitus rummaged through the old tack room, pulling out objects seemingly indiscriminately, discarding some, and placing others into a pile.  In the middle of the barn, the Niff boy let out a high pitched whimper and rattled his chains as something inside the heavy bag covering his head did something undoubtedly unpleasant. 

Truthfully, he was almost feeling sorry for the boy.  Almost.  It was hard to feel anything but hate for the people slowly taking over the world.

“What are you looking for?”

Crepitus grunted as he threw an old grooming brush into the pile of other decidedly phallic shaped objects.  Lentium swallowed thickly.  “Crep, you don’t plan on—“

The swarthy man whirled around, lightning in his eyes.  “You saw what he _did_ to me!  He deserves to be punished.  And when he gets here, I will make the prince watch.  Niffs are the enemy and should never have been offered refuge in Lucis, least of all Insomnia!  But, every day, more and more arrive to clog our cities; steal our resources.”

Crepitus strode forward, and Lentium took an involuntary step back, shrinking before his partner.  “Your father fought the Niffs and came home a changed man.  You said yourself; he’d never struck you or your mother before he left for war.  But they did something to him, didn’t they?” 

Lentium was having trouble meeting the taller man’s eyes, so he cast his gaze to the floor.  “Yes.” 

“And I’ve told you what they did to my family and I; most of it no different than what I have wrought on the boy.  And might I remind you, I was far younger than he at the time.  And you want me to what?  Go easy on him?”

From outside the room, the boy let out half a terrified wail before it dissolved into a fit of choked coughing.

“No, Crepitus, that’s not what I’m saying.  Just…”

The swarthy man lifted an eyebrow, rearing his head back in mock surprise.  “What?  Are you feeling _neglected_?  You know I prefer to keep these particular energies for the scum they are intended for.  I can’t give you the proper attention you need when we have a job to do.”

Lentium swallowed, still refusing to meet Crepitus’ eyes.  “No..that’s not it, either—“

“ _Then what_?!” The darker man nearly roared.  “What, do you want to take a turn with the boy?  You’ve never expressed an interest in those particular aggressions before; I assumed your particular needs were only in abusing the flesh, not the soul.”

Neither of them were kind men; Lentium had no illusions of that. But Crepitus had never spoken to him that way.  In fact, before this job, he could not remember a time in which the older man had ever lost his temper.  He was thorough and controlled in his ministrations, and rarely showed anything but detached disinterest in the subject of their tortures, personally.

But this boy seemed to have gotten under his skin.

 It’s not that Lentium was jealous.  He wasn’t.  It’s just that….

He _really_ wished they had not taken on this job.

Crepitus stared him down a moment longer, before turning to scoop up his new implements.  “You might as get ready.  The prince will be here, soon.  He should be calling any moment, now.”

Lentium gave his partner a brief nod, and headed out to do what he was told. 

Just. Like. Always.

 

* * *

 

 

Cor was going to kill them all.  He was pretty sure of it.

Ignis, Gladiolus, Iris, and Crowe stood before him, matching him glower for glower.

He paced back and forth in front of them, stopping in front of Ignis after three crossings.  “Haven’t you done enough damage?”  Ignis visibly paled in response, but straightened his posture nonetheless. 

Cor turned his gaze on the rest of them. “Absolutely not.  None of you are going anywhere; least of all you, Lady Amicitia.  No offense.”

Gladiolus stopped any comeback she might have had by clapping his hand over her mouth. “Sir, with all due respect, I am the Prince’s sworn shield. I should be out there, protecting him.”

Cor smiled humorlessly.  “Yeah, but instead you decided to go out and get yourself hit by a car by rushing into the _godsdamned_ road after a man you shouldn’t have been following in the first fucking place!”

Gladiolus gently pushed Iris aside and took a step towards Cor; his face ruddying in his anger.  But before he could get anything out Ignis interrupted, coming to stand slightly in between the two men, facing the marshal. “Sir, arguing now is not going to help Prompto or Noctis at this point.  And, I think I've come up with a plan.”

Cor wiped a hand down his face and turned his stern countenance to the adviser.  “Fine.  You have three minutes to convince me to let you lot come with us.  Starting now.”

Ignis fumbled for only a moment before revealing his plan to the marshal.  He had the man rolling his eyes and waiving them on to the vehicles gearing up to speed to the other side of Insomnia with forty seven seconds to spare.

 

* * *

 

Noctis was winded after his frantic combination of running and warping to the designated location, which turned out to be a pizza place near the industrial district.  He caught his breath on the roof, trying to compose himself before placing the call.  Just as he got the air back in his chest, Nyx landed on the roof, looking decidedly pissed.  Despite his best efforts, he’d been unable to catch the angry teen.

“What… _kid_ …c’mon.  We gotta call someone, you cannot possibly…”  the older man trailed off, trying to catch his own breath. 

“Nyx, do me a favor, will you?”  Noctis’ eyes had never gone back to their normal blue; they cast an ethereal glow across his pale cheeks and made his blue-black fringe luminous in the gathered shadows.  “Shut the fuck up and get out of sight.”

Nyx Ulric absolutely would not take that under normal circumstances, but he knew he was beat, here.  With a sigh, he strode over to the fire escape that crawled its way up the north side of the building and hopped down onto the first landing below, finally—quietly—answering Crowe’s repeated hails.

Pulling in a deep breath and forcing himself to calm, Noctis connected a video chat with the number Crepitus provided.

It took long moments, but soon the screen was filled with the smug face of his current enemy number one.  He took in the man’s features, memorizing each crease and wrinkle; he would watch them twist in agony.

“Hello, Prince Noctis, how kind of you to call.  Please do give us a little spin, won’t you.  I would like to be sure you have followed directions.” 

Wordlessly, Noctis did as asked, making a full slow turn so the man could see he was alone on the roof. “Satisfied?” He grumbled at the screen.

One half of the man’s mouth lifted in a cruel smile.  “Oh, I’ve been satisfied _many_ times over the last few days.”

The muscles in Noctis’ neck twitched as he snarled wordlessly at the screen; around him, energy crackled in the still night air.

“Let me talk to Prompto.”  Noctis demanded, eyes burning brighter in his rage.

Crepitus glanced behind him, though Noctis could still see only him on the screen.  “Well,” he started soft and slow, side eyeing back to the camera.  “I’m not so sure he can talk to you at the moment; he hasn’t been truly coherent in hours.”  He moved to the side to let the freckled boy into frame.

Noctis’ stomach dropped painfully, but he kept his face composed.  Prompto looked…bad.  Really bad. And he couldn’t even see his friend’s face, what with the black canvas bag locked over it. 

“Let’s fix that, shall we?”  Crepitus nodded to someone behind the camera, who picked it up and followed the swarthy man closer to Prompto, and at his bidding, made a full circuit of the boy so Noctis could take in all the damage.

The camera panned back to show Crepitus sporting a superior expression standing behind Prompto who was on his knees, trembling. Occasionally he jerked his head to the side as if he’d been hit, and emitted an almost endless deluge of excruciating whimpers below the hood.

“I think I have a potion here, somewhere….” Crepitus made a show of glancing around.  “It won’t heal most of the damage, probably won’t touch the fever….but it may get him to start making sense again.”  He looked into the camera again, eyes twinkling. “He was quite annoying with all his smart mouth remarks, but I found a clever way to shut him up.  Would you like to see?”

“Just tell me where you are so we can make the trade.”  Noctis bit out, hands trembling slightly as he held the device.

“Don’t you dare give me orders, boy prince.  In fact—“ the man bent down and grabbed a half gallon jug of water that was on the floor along with several other objects; most of which Noctis couldn’t begin to fathom what they’d be used for.  “Let me show you what happens when you anger me.”

Before he’d made another move, Noctis was spilling apologies, trying to keep the man from hurting his friend further. But it was too late.

Crepitus opened a zippered section at the top of the bag and shook it a little, peering down inside.  Satisfied with whatever he saw in there, he began to slowly pour the water in the hole.

The canvas was heavy, but not water proof.  The liquid pooled in the bottom, coming up to what Noctis estimated to be Prompto’s chin, leaking out in small slow rivulets through the fabric and beneath the leather strap keeping it attached to the boy’s neck. 

Prompto began to scream.  Long blood curdling peals of horror sounded through the phone, muffled by the wet cloth, but no less gut wrenching for the volume.  He jerked violently, the rusted chains ripping at his already torn flesh. 

Crepitus upended the container when it was about half empty, washing out the screams in horrified gurgles and coughs until finally his voice was silenced.

Noctis sat down hard on the rooftop, one hand covering his mouth as tears pressed at his burning eyes. It was several long moments before the water level inside the bag went down again, and Prompto heaved out harsh wet breaths.

When it was drained, Crepitus did pull out a vial of potion and unstoppered it, pouring it in as well.  A visible shudder wracked Prompto’s body, but he quickly stilled when the man leaned down next to his left ear and said asked him to nod if Prompto heard him.

After a brief pause, Prompto complied.

“Good.  Now, do you want me to do that again?  With the water?”

This time, the head shook emphatically, indicating a no.

“Do you want me to take off the hood?”

This time he spoke, rasping out a ‘yes’.

Crepitus smiled into the camera and made a gesture. Lentium followed his cue and circled around to be behind them now, while the darker man moved to stand in front of Prompto.

Noctis’ eyes were immediately drawn to the whip-wheels that covered his friend’s back.  There were too many to count; in differing thicknesses and stages of healing.  He refocused his attention on the man he intended to kill when he spoke again.

“And if I take it off, you will behave?  You will be my good boy?”

This time, the yes was whispered, but Noctis still heard it.

“You will do anything I ask, without question or retaliation?”

Prompto whimpered his affirmative.

“Will you answer any questions I have?  Will you give me your secrets? The prince’s secrets?”

Prompto’s chest heaved.  “B..but I don’t _know_ _anything_!!  I’ve told you I don’t know…jus…just kill me, please!”  His words were cut off abruptly by another fit of wet coughs.

Crepitus grinned and pulled a string with a key on the end from around his neck, gently shushing the boy.  “Now now, calm yourself.  I will take it off.” He undid the padlock of the leather strap and loosened it, slowly pulling the hood from Prompto’s head.

To Noctis’ horror, an avalanche of water logged insects fell out of the bottom, hitting the ground and scattering quickly.  Crepitus took a moment to gently brush the remainders from Prompto’s wet hair, and then gripped his chin tightly, turning his head this way and that to inspect his ears and nostrils. 

The prince could not see Prompto’s expression, but he was sure it was horrified.

Crepitus kept the grip on Promtpo’s chin, and tilted his head back to look down in his eyes.  “Thank me for helping you.”

“Th-thank you for h-helping me.” Prompto stuttered out, voice weak with relief and tinged with fear.

Noctis screamed at the screen, but it was no use—they’d obviously muted him.

“Sir.” Crepitus said; and admonishment.

“Thank you f-for helping me, sss…sir.”

“Your earlier rebellion proved quite effective for the time being; but I will get even with you for it soon enough.  For now, I will settle for a kiss.”  He flickered his sliver eyes to stare back at Noctis. 

Lentium had a tablet, using it as the video chat device; so Crepitus was able to take in the horror and disgust in the prince’s eyes as his mouth twisted with undoubtedly angry—yet silent—words.

“If you will show me you can be a good boy, I will let you down from here.  I may even give you another potion.” 

His words echoed back to that first offer and Prompto knew not to trust it; he knew better, but he found himself nodding in the man’s grasp.

Crepitus leaned down and took Prompto’s lips almost tenderly, sliding his free hand back to grip the short blond hair at the back of his head.  When the boy did not respond, he became more insistent, darting his tongue forward and increasing the grip on Prompto’s chin until the boy let him in with a soft moan of displeasure.

It was several long tense moments before they parted, and Crepitus gave Prompto an almost fond smile before straightening back up to begin working on the chain on the boy’s left arm.  When he started on the right hand side, he gestured for Lentium to come back around to the front, and Noctis tensed.

Even with the potion, Prompto’s face was a mess.  It was mottled with bruises and swelling, and his blue violet eyes glittered with fever and terror in tandem.  His hazy gaze slowly rose to meet that of Noctis’ on the screen, and confusion joined the emotional fray playing across his features.  He reached out a trembling blood spattered hand, running a finger down the screen.

“N.. _Noct_?  Wha… what’s hapn’n?”  He furrowed his brows, concern now registering.  He swung his head back towards Crepitus and repeated his broken question.

The swarthy man ran his hand through Prompto’s hair.  “Well, it turns out that a stray little Niff is worth something after all.  Your friend has valiantly volunteered to take your place.”

“ ** _No_**.”  Prompto said the word with more strength than he’d had in the last day.  He whipped his head back towards the video chat, studying Noctis’ face as best he could. “Noct, y-you can’t.  Please stay away.  Please.  I..I’m not worth it; you know I’m not!!” 

The devastation of those knocked all the air from Noctis’ lungs, deflating him.  He curled his knees up to his chest, gripping his phone in both hands. 

“It’s too late, boy.  The deal is struck.  He’ll come here in all his royal glory; and we’ll release what is left of you into the gutter where you belong.”  Crepitus finished unwrapping the chain and reacted quickly to catch Prompto as he slumped forward, unable to keep himself up under his own power.

“No no _no_ **_no_**.  Please, no!  You can’t!”  Prompto beat his fists feebly against his captor, struggling as best he could to make Noctis understand; make him see he’s got to stay away.

Crepitus humored him for a few moments, but after a particularly hard blow a little too close to his manhood, he shoved the boy to the ground with a snarl. Prompto drug himself closer to Lentium, who stepped back a few paces.  “Stay away!  Noct, he’s a liar!  He’ll n..never let me go!  Please, Noct, go home!  Let him h-have me.”

Crepitus tutted behind him, pulling a mock disappointed face. He strode forward, easily overtaking Prompto’s progress.  The swarthy man planted his feet on either side of the boy’s legs and reached down, yanking him back up by the armpits, pulling his raw back up against his chest and holding him there.  An echo to what he did that first day. 

Prompto’s face twisted, never breaking eye contact with his friend inside the screen.  As his feet left the floor, he kicked out, but there was no strength behind it, and Crepitus simply held him as he squirmed.

“Now that isn’t being good, is it, boy?”  He asked, his lips near Prompto’s ear, brushing against it.  “You promised me.”

“Yeah?” Prompto’s voice was high and pained. “You’re a _fffucking_ _liarrrr_.  I don’t h-have to keep my promise to you.  Kill me.  Fucking _kill_ _me_.”  The abused boy bucked again, trying with all his might to get free.

Noctis watched, not bothering to say anything now; it was pointless, Prompto couldn’t hear him.  But he _knew_ ; he knew what his friend was doing, and it broke his heart.

“Hmm, I think you need a time out, boy!”  Crepitus laughed and easily carried the struggling blond over to the wooden crate, Lentium following to document every moment. 

By the time Prompto’s fevered brain caught up to what was happening, he was half way in the crate, and he renewed his struggles as ragged terrified screams ripped from his throat.  “No, no!  Not the box, please!  _Please_ , Crepitus!”

The devastating slap delivered to Prompto’s face silenced all other noise in the barn.  “Do not ever use my name, you piece of _Niff_ garbage.”  He spat in the blond’s face, his saliva mixing with the fresh blood running from the corner of the boy’s mouth. Stunned, Prompto’s face fell in utter resignation.

Crepitus folded him the rest of the way into the tiny box and slammed the lid shut, locking it with gusto.

He spun and brandished the key to the camera, smiling at the prince before tucking it back under his shirt.  “Now, Prince Noctis.  I will advise you on where to come.  You will be here in one half hour, or we will throw the crate containing your little Niff boy into the creek.”  Crepitus’ hand filled the screen as he tapped on it, turning the sound back on.

Noctis tried hard but failed in keeping his voice steady. “I understand.”

Crepitus’ face folded into a darkly superior grin.  “Well then….”

 

* * *

 

In…in a way….in a way, he was lucky. 

Even though his skin was hot and his insides were cold and nothing felt real anymore, he understood that.

He was so proud…so content inside knowing that…at least for a short time, Prompto had been able to call Noctis ‘friend’.

_Friend_.

He had lived his whole life without one, and though their time together had been short, it was a lifetime of happiness in comparison to his earlier existence. 

And with Noctis came Ign..Ig…Iggy…and uhm Gla..uhm…Gladio.  Oh, gods, poor Gladio...

...but yeah.. anyway they had always treated him nicely.

Yes, he was lucky.                    

But; there was also despair. It twisted the hollow pit that was his stomach and threw shadows over his heart.  He didn’t want Noc..uhm..N…

Noctis!  Noctisnoctisnoctisnoctis.  He didn’t want Noctis to come.  Hadn’t wanted the prince to see him at all. 

He…he wanted Noct’s las…last memories to be of him laughing…telling a stu…stupid pun.  He didn’t wa…wa…nt…..

All his thoughts were drowned out by the rumble of thunder and scent of rain.

 

* * *

 

The storm was raging outside.

Crepitus had perched himself on top of the crate that had his prize all locked inside.  He felt almost at peace as he watched Lentium shift his weight from one foot to the other against the backdrop of the angry squall.

Lentium was not as beautiful as the Niff boy, but Crepitus supposed he had something akin to feelings for the man.  It wasn’t often, after all, that one found someone who accepted you for yourself.  But, he didn’t enjoy certain ::aspects:: of Crepitus’ taste, and not for the first time in the last few days, he found himself wondering if Lentium could be persuaded to let him keep the boy.  Their benefactor had already given him permission. 

After they handed the prince over to their benefactor, they could smuggle the Niff out of Insomnia.  Given the proper time and resources, Crepitus was sure he’d be able to not only break the boy, but _train_ him.  Just the thought of having a personal Niff servant did wonderful things to his cock, though the pain from the still raw bite quickly reminded him the boy would need copious amounts of discipline.

He’d collar the boy for sure.  And likely employ a ring gag to give him access to his mouth without another incident.  He really should have thought of that in the—

“I think he’s here, Crep!”  Lentium backed away from the door as a seemingly stray lightning bolt materialized at the base of the hill the barn was sat upon.  The figure was little more than a shadow with glowing eyes, but it moved with purpose, climbing straight up towards the open doors.

Crepitus got to his feet and strode to the center of the barn.  “Are you ready?”

Lentium scrambled back, not ashamed of the abject fear he showed in the face of the boy prince’s wrath.  He was back behind Crepitus before the shadow crossed the threshold, resolving itself into the regally infuriated features of the crown prince.

It was only once he was inside the doors that Noctis broke eye contact with Lentium, and that was the first moment in several that the man took a breath.  The prince’s glowing gaze found the box, and the wordlessly strode towards it, stopping in front of Crepitus.

“Give me the key, and I will cooperate.”

Crepitus smiled down at him.  “You’re much smarter than your friend, Highness.”  He bowed mockingly, withdrawing the key from his neck and holding presenting it to the prince.

Noctis snatched the key and hurried over to the box, quickly unlocking it and throwing open the lid.  He let out a choked cry of relief, and held a shaking hand out to his friend, brushing his fingers down a lightly freckled/darkly bruised cheek.

He bit his lip when there was no response from the blond, and he sat up on his knees, reaching in and pulling Prompto out of his confinement.  Noctis gently laid Prompto up against his chest, leaning his head over his friend, whispering desperate words of encouragement.

But still, nothing.  Prompto lay limply, his chest rising and falling in stages, small wet sounds occasionally escaping…but otherwise there was nothing.

Something broke inside of Noctis, and he suddenly felt drained…weak.  Wait, that wasn’t right.

Why did he feel so weak?  He’d just powered himself up before he landed on the farm.  He’d downed a cocktail of boosters and ethers, but he could barely feel them now.

Prompto whimpered, and Noctis was dragged out of his dazed thoughts.  He had potions...an elixer. He reached into his armiger to retrieve one for his friend.

Or, rather, he tried to.  Again and again he attempted to access that pocket of subspace that held everything he needed, but it was gone.

He gripped Prompto tighter, and dragged him back towards the wall.  Slowly, Crepitus and Lentium advanced, wolfish grins playing out across their features.

“Well,” Crepitus reasoned as he got closer, pulling out a small metal box with an antennae and switch.  “At least we know it works.”

Noctis swallowed hard; this was definitely not part of the plan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovvveee youuuuuuu. This was an extra long chapter, and I know I promised that the showdown was gonna be here, buuuuuuut. I'm a liar. What do you expect from Satan?? The last few chapters will also prolly be like four thousand words long sooooo, buckle up.


	15. chaper 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiii. sooo uhhh....here is my current offering. Satan is running rampant through this chapter. Aaand you can pretty much blame/thank MsChievous for that. She is my muse for all things evil. Perhaps it is she that is the devil. Anyway, i bring you an extra long offering. Like more than twice as long as any other chapter. And I stayed up five hours past my bedtime just for you. Please enjoy. Also, yeah, def make sure you are invested in the depravity. Just saying, i had to get a little drunk to write the last bit. And i feel awful. You will all probably hate me, now. but its ok, i can take it. Love youuuuuuu. On with the story!

Nyx was slowly beginning to hate the prince.

Leading violent skirmishes in Niflheim territory was almost preferable to keeping up with Noctis.

Having been summarily dismissed by the teen tyrant, he made his way down to ground level so he’d be far enough away to not be heard or seen on the video feed.  He’d contacted Crowe about halfway down, steeling his nerves against the deluge of bullshit he knew was coming.

Luckily, she seemed happy that he was finally communicating and only called him four foul names before launching into a tirade about them having arrested Count Scientia’s boyfriend. But, they apparently did find the address and were trying to convince the marshal to let all of them join the rescue party.

“Good, get out there as soon as possible.  I’ll try to convince the prince to wait, but I doubt—“

A streak of blue shooting over the alleyway was his only warning that the call was over. The Glaive groaned, “He’s on the move.  Gotta go.” He launched a kukri up towards the rooftops and took off on another wild chase across the city.

He didn’t bother doing anything but try and keep up.  He caught the teen nearly heaving his guts out on the side of a two lane road on the outskirts of town.  A storm had kicked up, and Nyx landed in puddle a few yards down from the prince.

He called Crowe so he could give the teen a few more moments of privacy. “What’s your ETA?”

The younger Glaive let out a blustery sigh.  “Were on Bleaker Road, now.  Five minutes, maybe?  Cor should already be there.”

“What the hell do you mean, Bleaker Road? That’s like a half hour from here! I’m on six-damned Fairtowne Lane, about to storm a fucking barn. Call Cor and get everyone up here, now!” 

 He took a deep breath to calm himself before approaching the prince and silently rubbing his back, feeling close to losing his lunch as well.  Warping was never fun for the stomach and they’d both been pushing beyond their limits, not to mention this whole situation was insane.

“Kid, you gotta wait for the others.  They’re on the way.”

Noctis ran his forearm across his mouth, wiping away a splatter of stomach acid. “All the more reason for me to go ahead in.  They’re going to kill him, Nyx.  I have to help him.  If you try and stop me, he’ll die.  Do you get that?”

Nyx groaned out a sigh, tightening his grip on the teen’s shoulder.  “Yeah, kid, I get it.  But, if I let you go in there, _you_ might die, and _I_ will definitely be executed.” 

“You’re not going to be able to stop me.  Look, I have a plan.”  Noctis tactfully ignored the eye roll and derisive snort. “All I have to do is get to Prompto.  I’ve packed my armiger with elixers and other stuff.  Even if they don’t fix everything, they’ll give him enough to be able to at least get himself out.  You get him safely away from the barn and then come help me kick some ass.”

“That is not a good plan, kid.  There are too many variables—“

Noctis drew himself up in all his political trained glory, eyes flashing in the darkness. “That’s the plan, Glaive Ulric.  You can help or you can stay here and wait for the others.”  He turned to glare up at the building they could just make out in the distance some half mile further down the road.  It sat up hill at the end of a long and twisting drive, past a dilapidated farmhouse and remnants of fencing.

Nyx frowned, resigned to the fucked up situation. “Fine, but if he isn’t out in five minutes, I’m coming in regardless of the plan.  And you have to understand that when I do, your life is my top priority.”   

Noctis nodded, and quickly downed two ethers and a few other power ups. “Just know that my priority is Prompto, and I’m not leaving without him.”

Nyx’s grin was grim.  “Yeah, so long as we’re clear.”

And then the Prince was off, and Nyx gave him one full minute before he followed. 

He never should have done it.  He never should have let the prince go up there. But, how was he to know that they could literally cut off the powers of the crystal? 

It was unheard of.  They had never prepared for this eventuality.  Nyx was not prepared, certainly, when he phased back into existence mid-warp and slammed headfirst into a tree. He attempted to grapple onto a few branches, but couldn’t maintain a grip.  His last thought before the ground rushed up at him and his head collided with an exposed root was that he had better not be taken down by a _fucking_ _tree_.

 

* * *

 

The moment the boy prince’s eyes flickered from maroon to midnight blue, Crepitus knew he’d won.  Technology was not his forte, and he had little use for it in his day to day life.  However, this machine definitely proved itself to be all it claimed. He’d have to thank Lentium’s cousin for this boon.

He grinned wickedly as he and his partner advanced on the pathetic pair.  At first he’d believed his little Niff was unconscious, or perhaps had finally passed on.  But as he got closer, he saw the truth; the boy’s mind had simply gone elsewhere.  His eyes were open in small fevered slits, staring deeply into nothing.  He gave no reaction when the raven haired boy begged him for one.

The prince’s face when he figured out he no longer had access to his magic was beautiful.  The confusion and fear twisting those sweet features brought joy to the callous man’s heart. 

But….then there was the way he was holding onto the Niff.  Crepitus’ Niff.  So possessive; like he somehow thought he may still have a right to the boy, even after he’d been marked.  Taken.  Owned.

Perhaps the boy prince didn’t fully realize he’d lost his toy.

Lentium reached them first, but hesitated when the prince snarled a threat at him as he pulled the blond closer. 

“Oh, come now, boy, there’s no need for that.”  Crepitus stopped as well.  The prince had backed himself into a literal corner, and there was no way possible for him to escape past them to the door; not without leaving his friend behind.

“Fuck off!  Back up!”  Noctis’ voice wavered, betraying his nerves.  He knew exactly what kind of mess he’d made.

Crepitus merely tutted at him, then turned to his companion.  “You grab the Niff, I’ve got the prince.”

They surged forward, keeping far apart so they could remain separate targets. 

Even without his magic, Crepitus knew the prince would be a handful.  That was the main reason he had taunted him; he wanted to set the teen off kilter.  And it worked.

In his worry, the prince made himself vulnerable by getting on the ground with his little friend. By the time he’d laid the blond down and scrambled up to defend him, Crepitus had closed the gap between them and was swinging a right hook towards his face.

Noctis shifted back in time, narrowly avoiding treading over the listless youth’s hand.  He blocked the wild haymaker that followed, grabbing onto Crepitus’ wrist on the downswing, pulling him off balance and flipping him onto his back. 

He didn’t have time to finish the man off, however, as Lentium had snagged Prompto by the ankles and was dragging him towards the center of the barn.

Noctis launched himself at the green haired man, knocking him away from his friend, sending them tumbling to the dusty wooden floor.  He came out on top and straddled the stout man’s waist and set about pummeling him in the face and chest. Lentium shielded his head with his forearms, doing his best to protect it from the onslaught.

Crepitus charged forward and sent a kick into the prince’s side, dislodging him from Lentium, who rolled away.  Noctis bounced back to his feet immediately and sprang into action, sending several well aimed punches the older man’s way.  Crepitus was able to block the first few, but an uppercut caught him by surprise and sent him reeling back to crash into one of the tethering poles and he slid to the floor. 

Rage twisted Noctis’ face as he took in the object of his hate.  It was ignited into fury when he glimpsed the bloodied chain hanging just behind the man. He took a step forward, a twinge of satisfaction sparking in his chest at the shadow of fear that crossed the man’s face.  Murder oozed out of his pores as he took the next step.

But, suddenly, Crepitus smiled his satisfied cat grin, silvery eyes flicking behind the prince.

An ominous click accompanied a confused grunt.

Crepitus gripped the chain to hoist himself back to his feet.  His hand came away streaked with rust and something darker.

Slowly, deliberately, Noctis turned.

Lentium stood in the center of the barn, the wild storm outside strobe-lighting him from behind as he ground his boot into Prompto’s back, forcing more pained whimpers from the boy.  His blue-violet eyes sought out Noctis’ and recognition flared there, quickly followed by sorrow.  He tried to say something, but all that came out were a few half started words. 

Noctis was having trouble keeping focus on his eyes, however, because just beyond those glittering depths, the barrel of a shotgun rested behind a blood stained ear.

Crepitus sauntered up to Noctis and clapped his shoulder in an almost friendly manner.  “You tried, boy. You tried.”

 

* * *

 

Crowe pursed her lips, doing her best to keep from blowing up in front of the teenagers.  They had split up into two vehicles, and she was currently saddled with the three idiots, and had been instructed by Cor to drive extra slow.

She frowned, however, when the address Podex had given her did not match up with the location Nyx reported to her when he caught back up with the prince.  And of course the Glaive was not answering her again so she couldn’t confirm.

And Cor was also ignoring her.

And the three idiots in the car would not shut up.

So she veered off the road, doing a quick and dusty U turn, tires and the youngest Amicitia squealing.  Beside her, Ignis glared, gripping tight to the ‘oh shit’ bar, and the middle console.  “You could be a little safer, you know.  A three-point turn would be more prudent on two lane road such as this.”

Crowe shot him an incredulous glance. “Look here, Count.  When you drive, you can do it however you want.  When I drive, the rest of you shut the hell up.  Got it?”

“Yes, Miss Altius.  I’m just concerned that we will not make it to our destination in one piece, and that is counterproductive.”

Crowe whipped the car back out onto the road, straightening it out and stomping on the gas.  “Well, lookie here, we’re all still alive.”

Ignis frowned deeply and forcefully removed his hands from their death grips and placed them back in his lap. “Yes, quite.”

Crowe side-eyed the adviser.  “Quite indeed.”

Ignis wisely chose to keep his mouth closed.

 

* * *

 

 

If they got out of this alive, Noctis was going to kill Nyx.

In the back of his mind, he knew something had happened; the same jamming frequency that stopped him from accessing his magic probably worked on the Glaive as well.  But the man kept his weapons on him, not in the armiger.  And he was more than formidable.

However, in front of his eyes, these men were preparing to torture his best friend, so he was at odds with himself and his feelings towards the absent Glaive.

The arrival of the shotgun pushed any thought Noctis had of fighting his way out of this firmly from his mind.  So long as they had that weapon trained on Prompto, he wasn’t going anywhere.  Even if he had access to his magic, he wouldn’t have been able to warp to him before Lentium would splatter his brains across the hardwood floor.

So he didn’t fight when Crepitus lead him over to the tethering poles.  He ignored the pleased humming of the swarthy man as he proceeded to lash the prince’s wrists together with the same rusted chain used on Prompto earlier, locking it into place.  Instead of forcing Noctis to his knees, however, he allowed the teen to stand and attached both arms to one pole; they stretched out above him, elongating his body uncomfortably. 

Once satisfied with the hold of the chain, Crepitus stepped back to admire his handiwork. He leaned in and trailed a finger down Noctis’ jawline, ending at his chin, which he tipped up so the teen had to look in his eyes.  “You have a pretty face.  Not as pretty as our little Niff, but still….extremely enticing.  If I weren’t under direct orders to cause as little damage to you as possible, I would do my best to see it in pain.  But,” he glanced back to where Lentium was still digging his boot into Prompto’s abused back, “perhaps I can find a happy medium by seeing how it looks in emotional torment.”

Noctis jerked his head back, glaring at the taller man. “You said you’d let him go.”

“And I believe the little Niff pointed out that I lie.”

“Well,” Noctis said, all defiance and fury, “so do I.  There’s a Glaive outside, just waiting for my signal.  And more are on the way; soon enough you’ll be surrounded and will go down for treason, among other things.”

Crepitus let a slow smile crawl across his face. “Oh, I highly doubt that, your highness.  You wouldn’t put your _friend_ in any danger.  You knew my terms.”

He whirled away from the prince and stalked over to where the shorter man still stood.  At a few short words from the older man, Lentium leaned the shotgun against a stall door and headed over to the far wall, gripping a table and dragging it backwards towards the group.  He then went to retrieve two chairs.

While he did this, Crepitus crouched down and flipped Prompto over, the freckled youth letting out a heart breaking whimper when his back collided with the floor.  The man then gently maneuvered his head and lifted his eyelids, making mock-concerned noises.  “Looks like the potion didn’t do much to the concussion or fever.”  He patted the side of Prompto’s face roughly.  “Can you hear me, boy?”

The only response was the small but obvious shift of the blond head.  It moved just enough that he no longer had to look the man straight in the eye.  Crepitus grinned.  “Your prince is here.  Don’t you want to talk to him?”

This time, there was no movement.  Not even the flutter of an eyelash betrayed him.

Noctis’ chest heaved in near panic.  Something was wrong…well a lot of things were _wrong_ , but the non-reaction coming from Prompto scared him.

Crepitus trailed his hand down the boy’s neck and chest, running over bruises and lacerations, pressing in on the sensitive skin.  Prompto gave no reaction, not even when the larger man’s hand grasped his inner thigh hard, thumb lightly caressing his—

“FUCKING let him go!”  Noctis spat, fighting against his restraints, which instantly cut into the skin of his forearms. “Stop touching him, you sick fuck!”  And then, as a last resort, he uttered a broken “ _please_ ” as tears of rage slipped down his face.

“Ah, but I’ve decided to keep him. After our benefactor comes to retrieve you, we will take him with us.” 

“Crep, you said we were gonna get rid of him, not take him with us.”  Lentium said from near the table, where he’d gone about setting up a few things for the older man.

“I’ve changed my mind.” He stated with no small amount of venom, rolling his eyes and abandoning Prompto’s lower half.  He swept his long fingers up and cupped the boy’s face again, turning it back towards him.  “We’re going to have such _good_ times together, you and I.”

Crepitus lifted his hand and actually ‘booped’ Prompto’s broken nose, like one might do to a toddler.  He gave the boy a viciously affectionate smile. “You may even learn to like serving me.”

Still Prompto just stared.

Crepitus frowned, and flicked him in the forehead.  “I know you’re in there, boy.”  He waited a few beats before anger started taking over and he outright slapped the blond, rocking his head to the side.

Noctis bit out a few curse words and rattled his chains, but ultimately had no effect on the scene unfolding before him.

The swarthy man ran one finger down the side of Prompto’s bruised face.  “It won’t do you any good not to answer me, boy.”  Crepitus reared back and hit him again, drawing fresh blood from the corner of his mouth.

When Prompto remained impassive Crepitus clambered to his feet and gripped the blond by one bloody arm and his hair and slammed him into the chair.  His body swayed, but he remained upright more or less under his own power. When the man turned away from him to rifle through some objects on the far end of the table, Prompto’s eyes quickly darted and made contact with Noctis’ a few yards away. 

Noctis’ heart froze when he just made out his friend mouthing the words ‘I’m sorry’ to him.  He returned the gesture and tried to give the abused boy a reassuring smile, but even he felt it waver and die before it fully formed.  The blond quickly dropped his gaze, letting the impassive expression fall back over his features.

Crepitus turned to Lentium who stood impassive off to the side.  The two older men locked eyes a moment, having a silent argument before Lentium looked away.  He cleared his throat loudly.  “I’m gonna, ah, go and patrol the area.  Kid may not have been lying about the Glaive.”

Crepitus sneered up at the man from where he leaned over the blond.  “Fine, yes, you do that.”

Lentium continued staring at the floor as he strode over and snatched up the shotgun again, heading out into the rain.  Once he was gone, Crepitus turned his attention back to Prompto, dragging a leather collar across the surface of the table and dangling it in front of Prompto’s eyes.  “You may as well get used to this, now.” His voice slid out slick as oil as he advanced on the now trembling youth.

Blood now flowed freely down Noctis’ arms as the chains bit into his flesh, his voice cracking and raw above the thunder.

 

* * *

 

Nyx groaned deeply, bringing one shaky hand to his face.

Weird.

He didn’t remember having nine fingers on that hand.

The Glaive groaned again, forcing himself to sit up but he immediately keeled back over to vomit into the puddle he was sitting in. It registered too late that he should probably move away.

Nyx was supposed to be doing something.  Fuck.  What was it?

It came back to him in bits and pieces, but he supposed the previous plan didn’t matter, now.

Not when there were three very pissed off looking green haired men holding identical shotguns in his face.

His hand snapped to his waist, searching for one of his kukri, but they were gone.

Fuck.

 

* * *

 

Lentium was pissed.  He couldn’t believe that Crepitus wanted to keep the fucking Niff kid.  _Keep_ him. Like Lentium wasn’t enough for him.  Like he wasn’t more than willing to do anything and everything the man asked of him.  Like he hadn’t literally killed _with_ him and _for_ him before.

Like they weren’t _godsdamned_ made for each other. 

When Crepitus pulled him off the streets, Lentium had been a stupid boy only a few years older than the scum sucking sonofabitch they had in the barn. Fucking Niff bastard.

Anyway, Lentium was living off scraps and had been pushed out of his neighborhood by a group of Niff refugees fresh in from the border. Frustrated and near starving, he’d lucked upon one of the younger boys of the family that took over his little corner in the alley behind the community center.  Kid was probably not a day over sixteen, but was hardened from the war and put up a bit of a fight.  But, Lentium won.  Back then, Lentium always won.

So, he had the punk on the ground, kicking him, planning on sending him back as a message to the others in hopes of scaring them off.  But then the clearing of a throat had him pausing.

In those days Crepitus had hair, and he wore it long. It was silvery like his eyes and it starkly contrasted with his dark complexion, making him have an almost ethereal appearance.  When he spoke, his voice was light; pleased. “Don’t mind me,” he’d said, “I’m just admiring your handiwork.”

Lentium smiled and spat down on the boy on the ground; “Just trying to get rid of some garbage.”

Crepitus had grinned, then, and asked for a turn.  Lentium had obliged and watched as the man declothed and defiled the boy, leaving him a crying mess on the ground.  It was …unsettling, but also pleasing in an odd kind of way. 

They’d left and Crepitus had bought him a cup of coffee, sharing just a few of the disturbing anecdotes of his youth; about how the Niffs had taken him and his family.  Back then, it was real soldiers in the armor, not the robots of today.  They’d been set upon by a platoon and kept for fun for over a month, the soldiers running the gamut of torture methods on each and every member of the small clan.  Crepitus was the only one who survived it; the Lucian soldier having to quite literally pull him away from the arms of his dead mother.

Lentium took to the older man quickly; he was confident and smooth and smart, all the things Lentium himself was not.  But he couldn’t fulfill the man’s desires, if for no other reason than he himself was Tenebraen, not Niff. 

The experience had left Crepitus with certain proclivities.  He specifically wanted to torment Niffs.  He had little interest in any of their other targets; saving up his more base desires for when they had an enemy of Lucis in their clutches.

But, in all their dealings, he’d never expressed an interest in keeping any of them.

What was it about this one that made him so special? 

Lentium hated and felt sorry for the boy in equal measures.

He was ripped from his musings when he nearly stumbled over the protruding leg of a Glaive.  Blood trailed from a cut in his head and he looked as if he was trying to come around. 

Lentium swung the barrel of the gun towards the man’s face, keeping it level with one hand while he pulled out his phone to text his cousin with the other.

Great.  This is just what he needed. 

 

* * *

 

Adam grinned to himself once everyone had evacuated the premises.  Tredd strode forward, his face grim.  “So, what now, smart guy?”

“Well, my good man, now you escort me back to my cell.”

Tredd straightened up, running a calloused hand through his hair. “You better have a good plan on how to get yourself out of here, cause I doubt the King is just going to let you waltz out of here.  You picked the prince’s favorite rat to fuck with.”

“Yes, and now we have the raven exactly where we want him.” Adam stood, slowly flexing his shoulders and holding his cuffed wrists out to the Glaive. 

Tredd shook his head and shoved the hands back down.  “Gotta at least keep up appearances.”

Adam barked a laugh and turned to follow the Glaive out the door.  “Yeah, you just remember that.”

Tredd sneared over at the smug man.  He didn’t understand why Glauca insisted on enlisting the man.  He’d just muttered something about ‘tests’ and ‘limits’ and left it at that.  He had worked out several contingency plans, and to Tredd’s count, they were currently working the route of D, which was not one of the more favorable paths to take. 

When they cleared the door, Tredd nodded to the Crownsguard standing outside and reached back to yank Adam out of the room.  He yelped indignantly, and stumbled, putting on quite the show.

“Hey, man, thought you were the good guys.”  He barked out at Tredd, who had a difficult time not rolling his eyes.

“Just keep going.”  Tredd shoved Adam towards the stairwell leading down to the cell block.  Once they were at the base of the stairs, Adam turned to the Glaive and again held out his hands. This time, he was freed.

“So what’s the big plan?” 

Tredd was answered by an explosion, which knocked a hole in the wall several feet down the corridor.  He stumbled back into the stairs, sitting down hard.  He shook lightly from the shock, eyes darting from his ‘prisoner’ to the hole and back again.  Adam smiled and scooped up a large piece of broken concrete.

“Remember what you said about keeping up appearances?”  The dark haired man advanced, the rock lifted high above his head.

He was already out of the newly formed exit and leaping on deck of a modified pod before the Crownsguard found Tredd’s unconscious form crumpled on the stairs.

 

* * *

 

He’d been floating again.  This time, it was unrestrained, and that was nice.  Much nicer than before, when the world was closed all around him.

Somewhere inside, he knew there was a knot of chaos flitting around him, but he chose to ignore it.

Tune it out.

Think of better things.

Noct.  Yes.  Think of Noctis.

He loved Noct.  He’d been afraid to admit it to the prince. 

Hell, he was afraid to admit it to himself.

Who was he, to love a prince?  A plebe?  Some insignificant no one? 

It was enough to make him laugh.  A _Niff_ in love with the crowned prince of _Lucis_.

Ridiculous.

But.  Still.

Noctis knew his secret.  Well, maybe not _all_ his secrets.  But he knew about his heritage.  And yet, he still wanted to see him; be seen _with_ him.

But maybe Crepitus was right. Maybe Noct just did see him as a charity case; or worse, as a tool for humor.  Maybe he really _did_ make fun of him with the other noble children.  Maybe he never really liked Prompto at all.

But then…

Wait.

…

… ….

Was that Noct?

…

Everything _hurt_. 

Prompto concentrated hard, forcing the fog in his mind back to the edges so he could assess the situation.  He was on the ground. 

He didn’t remember getting out of the box.  This, at least, was a nice development.

There was a grinding pressure in his back, and a sharp pain in his head, but he couldn’t quite place their sources.  They were gone soon enough, however, and he breathed deeply a few times.

He was so _hot_.

Every inch of his flesh that was not covered in bruises or lacerations crawled with a thousand stinging needles.  His body was heavy; all movement nearly impossible.

But, he knew he heard Noctis.

The world whirled for a moment, and the ceiling was suddenly doing a slow turn above him.  This was quickly replaced by Crepitus’ face.  He spoke dark garbled daemonic words, but Prompto didn’t want to hear them; didn’t want to see the man.  So he shifted his vision away.

He did his best, his _absolute_ best to give no reaction to the roaming hands.  This displeased the man, and Prompto was struck.  When his head pivoted to the side, he knew.

Noctis was here. 

He was here, but he was caught, too.  This was all Prompto’s fault.

He was hit again, and abruptly left alone, the shadows falling away from him momentarily.  He dared catch his friend’s eye.  He wanted to tell him so many things; _thank you, I love you, you’re so fucking stupid for coming here._

But he settled for a quick ‘I’m sorry’, hoping that would be enough, but knowing it wouldn’t.

Then the world was twisting and shaking again and he was sitting upright and trying to keep balance so as not to topple back to the floor.  And seconds or maybe minutes (hours?) later, Crepitus was dangling something in front of him, talking again.  Prompto stared. He didn’t have the energy to do much else.

He was so _cold_.

Crepitus slipped out of frame, a grinning afterimage left behind, imprinted on his mind’s eye. 

He couldn’t breathe. His hands, which lay limp in his lap, twitched in an effort of pull off the constricting object  at his throat, but before his muddled mind could send them the proper message, he was being lifted and slammed facedown onto the table, his torso stretching across its length.  His arms were yanked up behind his back and quickly bound.

Crepitus raged above him for a few more moments before shattering something against Prompto’s back.

Fire spread from the contact point, raging through his body bringing everything—the room, the pain, Noctis, everything—back into screaming focus.

“I know you can hear me, now, boy.  Answer me, or I will punish your prince, do you understand me?”

“Y-eah..uhm, yes. Ssir.”  Prompto choked out, disoriented at the sudden near-clarity the world around him held. 

“Good boy.  It’s nice to see you are capable of learning. Now,” Crepitus ran a hand the rest of the way down his back, squeezing one ass cheek hard, “on to my favorite part.”

Crepitus pressed into Prompto’s backside, mimicking a thrusting action. He ignored Noctis’ threats and foul words. “Sadly, you have taken care to make this a little hard for me.  But, you didn’t take one thing into consideration.”

Prompto bit back a smart response, knowing now that it would only lead to pain.                                                                                       

“The thing about this, about the dance you and I have been doing, is it isn’t about sex, dear boy.” Crepitus playfully ‘walked’ his hand around Prompto’s hip to take grip of his soft cock and gave it a few experimental strokes. He smiled broadly at the broken sob the action elicited.  “No,” he purred, leaning even more into the boy, flicking his tongue against the back of his ear.

Somewhere beyond the storm and rush of emotions, Noctis was screaming, but Prompto was busy trying to escape back to the sweet world he’d been dragged from with the administering of the hi-potion.

“This is about power.”  The grip on Prompto’s dick tightened, nails digging in hard enough to leave crescent moon indents in the soft flesh when the stroking didn’t give him the desired physical response.

Prompto hissed in pain, bucking his backside up against Crepitus in an effort to get away from his cruel ministrations, but that only spurred the man on.  He removed his hand from the boy’s member, and began slapping his palm along the table. 

He nibbled Prompto’s earlobe and Noctis screamed for him to stop.  He snatched the first object his fingers came into contact with; the grooming brush.  He took the tapered end and ran it down the boy’s backside, trailing it ever so slowly closer to his entrance.  “I told you I would make you regret biting me.”

Prompto froze. He wouldn’t.  He _couldn’t_.

Prompto began to scream and cry anew as the man slowly pressed the end of the brush against the tight ring of muscle.  Noctis raged louder still, and Crepitus caught his eyes, finding pleasure in those pained midnight depths. 

“Now,” he said, pushing in slightly further, teasing.  “Our benefactor should be here shortly. But, I am going to fuck you with everything I have on this table until he arrives.  Then he will whisk your prince away, and it will be just you and I.”

“And me, too, right Crep?” The swarthy man and the prince both whipped their heads towards the new voice.  Lentium was standing in the doorway with Nyx Ulric wavering in front of his shotgun.  He looked slightly crazed with his hair slicked down by the rain and his clinging, water logged clothes.

He shoved the muzzle of the gun into Nyx’s lower back and the man fell forward on his knees.  Noctis bit his lip at the blood oozing down the man’s face.  They were well and truly fucked.

 Crepitus straightened up, withdrawing the end of the brush from the trembling youth.  Prompto’s knees went weak with tentative relief and he shut his eyes tight.

“Of course, Lentium.  You and I and the Niff.  Just imagine it; we can keep him and with a steady supply of potions and other curatives, we can discipline him into being the perfect servant.  Wouldn’t that be glorious?”

“I don’t wanna keep him, Crep.  I want to be rid of him, like you promised. I want to be rid of all of them.  I want to leave this city and forget we ever answered Adam’s call.”

Crepitus frowned down at his partner and placed a possessive hand on Prompto’s back.  “Well, I want to have my own personal cock-sucking Niff.  Come on, you can’t tell me that the idea of having someone to immediately take your frustrations out on wouldn’t be nice.”  He smiled, now, long and slow and almost seductive.  “When you wake up from those nightmares, begging your father ‘ _no please, stop, don’t hurt me anymore_ ’ and all you want to do is kill something…well you’d have him right there to do with as you please.”

Lentium stared at the man long and hard before sighing in resignation.  “Do whatever you want, Crep. It’s what you’ll do in the end, anyway.”  The green haired man gripped Nyx by his coat collar and dragged him forward, quickly lashing him to the extra chair at the table. “Kid was telling the truth about the Glaive, so I called Adam.  He said they are on the way here.  The citadel’s scanners picked up the wrong GPS location, just like he said they would, and the Marshal and the his ilk are about to storm a barn on the other side of town. I’m going to patrol the area.  I’ll let you know if I see anything else.”

He made his way around to stand in front of the swarthy man, who regarded him silently for a few moments, before leaning down and pressing a kiss into his cheek.  “I knew you would understand,” he murmured as he pulled away.

Lentium merely nodded and turned to head back into the storm.

Crepitus turned back to Prompto, grabbing hold of the ring at the back of the collar he’d placed around the boy’s neck earlier.  “Well, I suppose I may be feeling a little generous.”  He jerked Prompto up by the collar, holding the boy against his chest as he spluttered and coughed.  He stared into Noctis’ eyes over the freckled youth’s shoulder, relishing the angry flashes in the dark pools.  He splayed his free hand against the blond’s chest, sliding it down to cup his balls, squeezing them lightly. 

“Since you can’t get hard for me,” he chuckled darkly into the boy’s ear, “maybe you can get hard for your prince.  Tell, me boy, have you ever paid him proper worship?”  He squeezed hard enough to make the boy yelp and dance.  Crepitus moaned softly and slipped a pale earlobe between his teeth. 

Before Prompto could answer, he found himself on the floor, gasping choking, being _dragged_ , and Noctis’ voice was harsh above the rush of blood in his ears and the pounding of the storm.  Crepitus dropped him at Noctis’ feet, grabbing the chain from the other tether pole and then pulling the boy back up to his knees and locking the chain to the collar.

Crepitus then approached the prince, knocking his feet aside when he tried to kick out at him.  He threw a punch into the raven-haired teen’s solar plexus, driving the air from his lungs.  He cringed as the swarthy man pulled his belt from its loops, dropping it to the floor.  Quickly, unceremoniously, he unbuttoned the prince’s trousers and shoved them and his boxers down to his ankles.  Noctis began to uncontrollably tremble, trying desperately to angle his hips away from the scrutinizing gaze of the older man. 

Crepitus hummed in approval, reaching out, but not quite touching the teen.  He smiled in a soft, crazed manner, and then strode over to stand slightly behind Prompto, who openly wept while staring at the floor, the door, anywhere but at his mostly nude prince.

He gripped the boy by the short hairs at the nape of his neck and forcefully walked him forward on his knees until his face was only inches away from Noctis.

Crepitus shook Prompto’s head violently.  “Now, this is the last time you are going to see your friend.  Don’t you want to give him something to remember you by?  Don’t you want to show him how talented your whore mouth is?”  His grip tightened and he forced the boy’s head closer, but Prompto kept his eyes focused firmly away.  “Show your prince that you understand your place, now.  Show him you know that Niff whores like you are worthless other than the scant pleasures your body can bring.”

Noctis’ mouth worked silently, wanting to deny all these allegations, but unsure of exactly what to say.  He settled with soft denials that fell on deaf ears as Crepitus continued.

“If you don’t please him _to completion_ before our benefactor arrives, I will put you in the box and never let you out again.  Do you want that, boy?”

Prompto let out a wet sob followed by a wracking cough.  Even from this distance, Noctis could feel the heat radiating off him.  The hi-potion had done little more than bring him back to reality; his fever still raged and his wounds still wept blood and pus. What little eye contact he’d made had been half lucid at best. 

“If that doesn’t do it for you, how about this; if you don’t start sucking him off right now, I will start using my various toys on _him_ while _you_ watch.  Do you get me?”

“Yes, sir.”  A broken whisper.

“Prompto, it’s ok.  I can take it.  You don’t have to do this, _please_ don’t do this.”  Noctis’ voice was a soothing whisper, an oasis in a cacophony of horror.

“See,” Crepitus crooned, “even the prince knows you’re not good enough for him.  Of course he doesn’t want dirty Niff lips on his royal cock.”

“Wha?  NO.  That’s not—“ Noctis spluttered, but fell silent when Crepitus yanked on the chain attached to Prompto’s collar, making him wheeze.

“Hey!”  Nyx, finally catching fully up to what was happening, started jerking against his restraints, scraping the chair along the floor a few inches.  “You need to leave that kid alone! Fucking coward, why don’t you pick on someone your own size?”

“Quiet, Glaive, or you will die sooner than planned.”  He clucked his tongue in annoyance, turning back to Prompto, shoving him forward again.

“Pay your respects to your prince, boy. Do it now, or I will make good on my promise.  I only have to turn him over in good condition, not mint.”

Prompto licked his lips, seeking out Noctis’ eyes.  The prince tried to emote everything good he felt about his friend; all his love and affection, anything to make this easier on the both of them.  He stared into those blue-violet depths, made all the more prominent by the red in the whites and the glistening tears that welled up and slipped down his swollen cheeks.

Prompto looked away again, his body heaving out another sob.

But, he leaned forward.  His breath caught in his throat.  He opened trembling lips and slowly, softly, encased the head of Noctis’ cock in his warm wet mouth.

Noctis choked back a scream and slammed his head back against the pole, staring up at the ceiling as tears leaked down his own cheeks.

Crepitus grinned and tangled his fingers in Prompto’s hair, making to shove him forward on the prince’s length.

But with a particularly loud burst of thunder and flash of lightning came utter darkness as all the power in the barn went out.  Everything was silent for several heartbeats until a sudden flare of maroon light marked the beginning of the end.

Crepitus sucked in a breath as he found himself staring into a set of enraged glowing eyes.  The next flash of lightning revealed the prince had phased out of his restraints and had a sadistic grin plastered across his pale face.  He stepped out of his pants unabashed and unashamed, his sole focus on the tall man before him who had yet to release his friend.

The swarthy man took two steps back, tightening his grip on the chain and jerking Prompto along with him. With his free hand, he fumbled in his pocket for the remote to the device that controlled the prince’s power and flipped it on and off several times, to no avail.  He retreated further and began to call for Lentium to come back.

Noctis just smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo i hope you liked it. Dammit that last part was hard. very hard. anywho, just fyi my state is on the direct path for like seven million hurricanes, so i can't promise when the next update will be. if bad comes to worse, look to MsChievious in the next few weeks. If I have to evacuate, I'm gonna give her the rest of the story details and full permission to have at it. anywho, in case I haven't expressed it enough before, I really do want to say you guys are the best. This fandom has been quite the life saver for me. I will see you soon :)
> 
> stay brutal.


	16. AUTHOR INSERT NO UPDATE

Just giving you guys the heads up that i am alive and safe and all that, for those who requested. Thanks for your concern! hopefully will have power back soon so I may update and bring that sweet sweet smackdown and comfort to you all. you deserve it, you've been waiting so long :) Thanks again for reading, and will hopefully have the next chapter up by the end of the week. Stay brutal.


	17. actual chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy im back. we're gonna blame the lateness of this chappie on Irma and my new job. Getting used to an entirely new sleep schedule is no bueno, my friends. No bueno at all. 
> 
> Anywho, can you sense it? The end is nigh. But, where is satan taking us??????? Oh noooo. }:) two chapters left. enjoy.

Cor signaled to the two Crownsguard that had rode with him.  They hustled forward, keeping to the shadows of the treeline. 

He was not about to wait for Crowe and her crew of underage idiots.  He only agreed to let them come along because he knew they’d cause more trouble if he didn’t, and he did not want to explain to Clarus or King Regis why he’d locked them in a cell.

His intent was for this to be an in and out operation.  Secure the subject and apprehend (or kill; it was no secret that Cor was ok with that particular outcome) the culprits. However, instead of two crazed kidnappers, they were met with an old man and seemingly even older dog. They had maybe nine teeth between them, and were both quite confused as to what was happening.

A lot of embarrassment and several apologies later and they were in their vehicle once more.  Cor slammed his hand against the steering wheel three hard times before picking up his phone to call Crowe. 

However, when he thumbed on the device, he bit back a curse at himself when he saw the seven missed calls and one bold text:

C. Altius: HERE’S THE FUCKING RIGHT ADDRESS ASSHOLE ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE

*attachment one item

He punched in the address on his GPS and lurched out of the driveway, doing well over any posted limit.  The ass cheeks of the other Crownsguard in the car collectively clenched and they correctly chose to remain silent as the Immortal tore through the countryside.

 

* * *

 

Lentium was a stupid man.  He berated himself endlessly as he stomped out of the barn, knowing full well that Crepitus was going to walk over him the rest of their lives. 

It just wasn’t worth it anymore.  Fuck him.  Fuck him and that Niff.  Crepitus could keep him for all he cared.  He strode around the side of the old barn, not bothering to put his hood up against the rain.  He had the keys.  He could leave.

He stopped himself mid-stride.  No, he couldn’t.  If he did, Crepitus would find him and kill him.  Slowly.  Painfully.  Joyfully.

He watched the sky; the rainfall had gotten exponentially heavier and the wind whipped up, whistling through the leaves of the nearby trees.  Lightning zigzagged across the cloudy blackness, illuminating the hillside in harsh white light. 

He grinned to himself.  Maybe he could still come out ahead. He quickly made his way around to the utility room.  It was little more than a small closet near the back of the building, but it housed the fuse box and was only accessible from the outside. 

If he shut off the power, the hold on the prince would be released instantly.  Then, he’d probably kill Crepitus.  At least that’s what Lentium hoped. 

He waited for a bright flash and a thunderous crash and threw the main power switch to the building. 

Lentium breathed deeply for several moments, waiting to see if he was found out.  But, Crepitus did not come raging out of the double doors after him, so he must have believed it to be a true power failure.  Lentium pulled a knife from where it was kept strapped to his thigh and proceeded to cut all the lines coming from the box to ensure no one would be able to restore it. 

He waited for another rumble of thunder before slipping back out into the night, the patter of rain covering his slogging footsteps as he rounded the back corner of the barn and headed for the truck parked a few yards away.

But, well, Lentium was a stupid man.

So he paused halfway between chaos and freedom, and he chose poorly.

Lentium strode to where the back door of the barn stood ajar and peeked inside.  He wanted to—no, _needed_ to watch it happen.

He hid in the undulating shadows, his huddled form backlit by the raging storm.

 

* * *

 

“What the fuck is that?!”  Crowe unconsciously slammed on her brakes, throwing all the passengers forward as the car burst through what appeared to be a virtual wall of water running across the road and up the hillside.  They hydroplaned for several yards, the back end careening crazily until she steered into the skid and brought the vehicle to a mud-flinging stop. She swiped a stray strand of chestnut hair from her forehead and took a quick inventory of everyone in the car.  “Anyone hurt?”

She didn’t wait for an answer as she shoved the door open and jogged back down the road to the spot where she lost control.  She nearly slipped in the mud and had to warp the last few feet, planting herself back on surprisingly solid, dry ground.  She slowly turned back towards the car and studied the weather anomaly.   

There was a clear division in the dirt that marked off approximately a mile radius around the old farm that they were approaching.  Behind her, the road was clear and dry; the sky cloudless and glittering with stars.

Ahead of her, the dirt road was flooded; the front of her vehicle was mere feet from being submerged. She tentatively stretched one hand forward, palm up to catch the heavy downpour, staring at it in awe.  Steeling herself, she dove back into the storm and wrenched open the back door of the car, leaning in and glaring at each minor in turn.  “We’re walking.”

They shared a look with one another as Crowe straightened back up.  Used to having her orders followed, she did not look back as she began trudging up the hill.

Three more doors slammed closed behind her, the sound almost lost in another peel of thunder.

 

* * *

 

Crepitus quickly threw the useless remote to the ground and wrapped the chain attached to Prompto’s collar twice around his left hand, yanking his sputtering Niff to his feet.  He kept the boy on his tiptoes, making sure his lithe frame covered as much of the front of his own body as possible.

Behind Noctis, the glaive Lentium brought in phased out of his own restraints and lurched to unsteady feet.

It was not matter.  He had the upper hand.

Crepitus jerked up on the chain, reveling in the gasping wheeze that the blond let out.  He brought the boy’s ear next to his lips, running his tongue along the back curve.  “I’m going to kill your prince and his friend, boy.  Then I’ll get rid of Lentium,” he nipped at the now wet flesh, puffing a happy breath into the boy’s hair.  “..it’ll be just you and me.  You’ll know your place then, you piece of shit. You’ll learn to love the way I treat you.  You’ll learn to _beg_ for it.”

“You need to give it up.” Nyx took a few steps closer to them, but paused when Noctis held up a hand.

The raven haired prince imperceptibly turned his head towards the glaive.  “Go find the other one.  Bring him to me.  I want to kill them both.”  His voice was level and resonated with all the bearing of his station.  It was the voice of a king giving a decree.

Nyx hesitated, then nodded once and strode into the raging storm.

“Now it’s just you and me and the Niff, here.  What’s it going to be, highness?  Are you going to risk being apprehended by my benefactor, or are you going to run?”

Ahead of him, the glowing eyes of the prince bore into Crepitus’, all rage and promise, the teen’s silhouette outlined with every flash of lightning. 

“You know the answer to that.  Let him go, now,” the brat intoned with all his regal fervor.  “…and I may consider killing you quickly.”

He sneered at the teen, his silvery eyes dancing with near madness.  “This is definitely one of those cases in which the phrase ‘if I can’t have him, no one will’ should be implied, don’t you think?”

Noctis’ answer was to summon a sword. Crepitus countered by using his free hand to grab onto the restraints at the Niff boy’s wrists and pull up and back on them, forcing a pained scream from the blond as his shoulders were nearly ripped out of joint.

“Noct,” the blond panted painfully when the prince stopped his movement and Crepitus released his arms. “Please ju-just go.  Le-eave me and go. Let me do this f-for you.” His words were slurred and he could not keep his eyes focused.

“He loves you, you know.”  Crepitus spoke up from behind the boy, smiling broadly in the dark.  “He mutters a lot, this one.  Spent a lot of time in that tiny tiny box, chattering away.”  Prompto choked on a sob when the man shook him for emphasis.  “He pleaded with the six, _lamenting_ how much he loved you; how he’d tell you about his feelings if only they would let him live.”

The man’s voice turned harsh and his face took on feral quality.  “But then again, that could have been delusional mumblings from the fever.  Either way, once you’re out of the picture, I’m going to train him to say such lovely words about _me_.” Crepitus nuzzled into the side of Prompto’s neck, keeping his eyes trained on the prince.  “I’ll have him tell me he loves me every day from his place on his knees at my feet.  Right after he begs me to let him suck my dick.”

In the brief second the prince’s face was illuminated by a flash from outside, Crepitus spotted the crumbling of the tough façade. He was getting to the boy.  Glorious.

He repositioned his hold again, grinning ear to ear. “Ooh, did I touch a nerve by touching your Niff?”  He bent more into Prompto’s neck, his next words for him, but said loud enough for Noctis to hear.  “I’ll bet that’s why he befriended you.  He wanted a royal cock warmer.”

Noctis circled him slowly, calculating, waiting for a good opening. Crepitus watched him, knowing that in their current positions, the boy who would be king would not be able to attack him without risking his friend’s life.  His eyes glistened and glowed, his voice raw when he denied the claims.  “Don’t listen to him, Prompto.  I…you…you’re so important to me. Nothing he’s saying is true.”

But Crepitus spoke over the prince, pushing his words through clenched teeth, a promise of violence behind them.  “If he’s ever wanted you at all, do you really think he’s going to want you, now?  You’re damaged goods, boy. You’re lower than shit. A fucked-out whore Niff is all he’ll ever see when he looks at you.  He saw your face as I rode you, as I made us into one.”

The boy trembled and gasped in his arms, the warmth of his fever radiating into Crepitus’ body almost pleasantly.  The sickly sweet scent of infection was intoxicating as it nearly rolled off the boy.

Noctis took a menacing step forward, bringing his sword up in an attack stance.  “Shut the fuck up!  Don’t listen to him, Prompto!”

Crepitus moved quickly, slacking the chain enough in his hand so that it would not rip it open when he kicked out the back of the blond’s knees, forcing him to kneel on the ground.  With his free hand, he reached around and pulled a pistol from its place strapped in at the small of his back, swiveling his arm forward in a smooth arc to shove the barrel of the weapon ruthlessly into the boy’s head.  He pulled up on the chain again, bending Prompto’s chin into his chest and ripping a rough whimper from his abused throat.

He caught that glowing gaze again, his expression fierce; possessive.  “You’re running out of time, Prince.  If you don’t leave soon, my benefactor will be here to collect you.  I doubt you’d be able to fight him and myself off while trying to save what’s left of this one.”                                                     

Noctis was losing his cool.  He was visibly trembling now.  The storm outside raged crazily, blowing open the hayloft doors, startling them when they banged against the wall.  “I don’t care; I’m not leaving here without him!” 

“Well, then,”  Crepitus snarled, “I guess you won’t be leaving here.”

 

* * *

 

Lentium sagged against the frame of the door.  He’d forgotten about the gun. It didn’t matter, though.  Nothing really mattered at all, now.

He’d lost everything.

So, he didn’t put up a fight when he spotted the glaive a few yards off.  He leaned the shotgun against the wall and raised his hands half heartedly.  There was no escape; he knew that, now.

When the glaive picked up the shotgun and gestured with it for Lentium to move forward, he complied without hesitation.

“I wouldn’t bother using me for leverage,” he threw over his shoulder as they trudged through the mud.  “He wants that Niff more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life.”

The man behind him grunted.  “Why’d you do it, anyway?  I mean, for gods sakes, he’s just a kid.”

Lentium shook his head, water flinging from the ragged ends.  “I don’t even know anymore.  I just…I just don’t know.”

 

* * *

 

Adam sighed.  After his rendezvous with Drautos, he was hoping to be dropped off somewhere safe so he could go forward with his plan of disappearing from Lucis forever.  However, the airship was heading straight to the heart of all the trouble.  Apparently the man was anxious to pick up his prize.

Who was he to argue?

He settled back, pulling out his phone.  He scrolled through to the text log with Ignis, reviewing the last few weeks’ correspondence with a faint smile.

It really was too bad.  He liked the young man.  There was a brief time in which he thought he may be able to convince him to come along.  He’d already transferred most of his assets into his new name, Magna Fallere, and with the money he’d be making from this venture, they could be sipping drinks on private beaches for the rest of their lives.

Well, if Adam, _ahem_ , Magna—was being honest with himself, he was into young men. He doubted that inclination would change.  He probably would have used Ignis up for a few years and then dropped him.

It would have been fun, though.

But it was clear early on that his green eyed lover was loyal to the prince above all else.  There was no amount of money or prestige or torture that would sway the stalwart adviser away.

They did have themselves some good times, however.

“What is this?”  Drautos was stood near the front of the small airship, leaning forward on the railing to peer out of the large bay window.  He was in his full armor, so would be recognized only as Glauca if seen.

Adam meandered over, frowning.  “I have no clue.  It almost looks as if…I mean it’s definitely a storm, and a fucking bad one...but, I’ve never seen one like this.”

They descended on the anomaly, both men looking on in awe.  Beneath them, a perfect circle of angry storm clouds writhed among bolts of lightning and raging winds. 

“I don’t like this, Drautos.”

He sighed, shoulders falling a few millimeters.  Mere hours ago, the man was nearly dancing with joy.  “It’s too late to back out, now.”

Adam stared at the older man for long moments.  “Is it, though?”

Drautos did not reply.

 

* * *

 

This was all just…too much.  Too too much. 

The ringing in his ear was now going in and out…in and out…his vision darkening and brightening in concert with the never ending resonation.

His breathing was shallow and wet, which was odd, cause it had been so long since he’d last had uhm…last had a drink.  When was that, anyway?  How long had he been here, with this man who thought he owned him? Why was Noctis here…and where were his pants?

Oh.  Right.

Prompto stared at the ground while pain blossomed in his head and neck and Crepitus and Noctis exchanged angry muffled words with one another.

He was…just…so tired.  He wanted to drift off.  He probably could if he just leaned into it; put a little more weight on the …the…

Fuck.

He couldn’t even acknowledge it to himself.

 _The_ _fucking_ _collar_.

His chest constricted painfully and he let out a cross between a sob and a cough, blood-flecked spittle flying from his lips.

Why wouldn’t Noctis leave?  He told him he’d take the abuse.  He’d take the …he’d take everything.  Noctis had the chance to run, but he was staying.  For _Prompto_.  Noctis was wasting his life on _him_ , of all people.

Noctis was so fucking stupid.  Prompto said as much, but it came out garbled and wrong and so low neither other person heard him anyway.

Then, everything suddenly changed.  Again.

He was abruptly on his back, bound hands digging into his spine; a new pain amongst a menagerie of agony. He rolled off as much as he could, coming to rest halfway on his bruised side.  Everything was dark for a moment, but he kept his eyes glued to the shadows moving a few feet away.

When the interior of the barn lit up, Prompto gasped in surprise at seeing a tiny daemon crawling up Crepitus’ back.  It was a little pale impish looking one wearing baggy black garbs. Its short hair whipped about crazily as it threw an arm around Crepitus’ neck and began to beat him in the face with the other.

The daemon was fast, but Crepitus was strong.  He reached back and grabbed the creature by the scruff of its neck and hurled it across the room. It hit the ground with a pained grunt, but quickly recovered.  It was on its feet and ready to attack a moment later, but Noctis told it to stop.

Since when did Noctis talk to daemons?  Since when did they listen to his command?

Crepitus was reaching for the chain again when Noctis threw his sword, warping after it.  He caught the hilt again just before it would have impaled Crepitus and pulled it back, preparing to strike. 

Prompto rolled himself over in the other direction, groaning from the effort. His ever blurring vision sought out the daemon, who stood poised to attack several yards away.

Behind it..her, maybe?  It had a vaguely girl shape, anyway…behind her stood the old man from his vision.  He stood in the corner of the barn, his face strangely clear to Prompto, though everything else around him was fading in and out of focus.  He smiled. 

Prompto smiled back, his swollen lips stretching painfully and cracking back open in places where it had already been split.

And then he closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've also been working on two special treats for you guys that I hope to have posted by the end of next weekend, along with the next chapter of this. We'll see, though. Real life keeps bothering me and demanding attention. Till next time; stay brutal my friends.


	18. actual chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy so yay this was up this weekend!! the other two side projects will likely take another few days, sadly. However, ya'll ready for this!??!?!? this chapter here? yeah, it contains some FLUFF. Not much, but it's there. Read on to find out what satan has in store for you today!

Iris had reached her breaking point.  From the moment they started slogging up the hill, Ignis and Crowe had been quietly bickering.  Meanwhile, Gladiolus had an aura of anticipation surrounding him thicker than the storm clouds overhead. When he was like this, she knew it best to steer clear. 

Just as they approached the barn, ducking up from the side, they ran in to Nyx Ulric and the man Iris had recognized from the homeless shelter.

She cocked her head to the side as she studied him.  He looked…sad, almost. 

She steeled her emotions against any bit of pity or sorrow, however.  This man had hurt Gladiolus’ friend.  This was a very bad man.

“What’s happening inside?”  Crowe kept her voice low, urgent.

Nyx gave her half a shrug.  “Prince sent me out to find this one.  He plans to execute them here.”

She raised one eyebrow while Ignis shifted uncomfortably behind her.  “He already have the other in custody?” 

“Uh, well…not exactly…”

Ignis, indignant, shoved a hand through his rain soaked hair before hissing to the Glaive “ _You just left him in there unprotected_?”

Nyx rolled his eyes.  “I’m pretty sure the prince can handle himself in a one on one fight.”

“With all due respect,” Ignis spluttered in a tone that definitely betrayed how much respect he thought was owed the man at this point, “he’s sixteen, sleep deprived, and extremely angry. Just him wanting to execute them here, without a trial—“

Nyx sneered, shoving the shotgun into his captive’s back.  “After what these two did to his friend, I don’t fucking blame him, Count Scientia.  _With all due respect_ , of course.”

Gladiolus stepped forward, leaving Iris on the outside of their argument.  She took this as her cue to see what was happening in the barn herself.

She stepped backwards lightly a few paces, until she was sure the older folks were not paying her any attention.  Then, she carefully picked her way through the tall grass to the open barn doors.  She slowly wrapped her hand around the wet wooden frame and peeked into the darkness beyond.

Luckily, the storm was intense, and lightning flashed near continuously, allowing the illumination through the open doors.

When she saw Noctis, her face broke out in a furious blush rose in her cheeks that not even her rain-plastered hair or the mud that was now caked on them would quell. 

Noctis was _half naked._

It was the good half too…according to her friend Scortari, anyway. 

She forcibly removed her eyes from the prince, and a blinding hot pop of rage raced through her skull when she turned them to the other.  _That poor boy_. 

The blond, completely naked and covered in bruises, cuts, and blood, was being forced to kneel on the floor.  The older man who stood above him kept him upright by the collar wrapped tightly around his neck, which was attached to a long chain, which was in turn attached to one of the two poles that were in the center of the barn.

She audibly gasped when he shoved the barrel of the gun against the back of the boy’s skull, but quickly regained her composure.

She saw the moment Noctis’ resolve broke; when he waivered and she feared he may do something stupid to appease that man.

It was then that Iris Amicitia, covered in mud and trembling with rage and cold, effectively saved the life of Prompto Argentum.

Well, Iris Amicita and a little divine intervention.

 

* * *

 

The darkness was vast and empty.  Prompto was sure that if he spoke, his voice would echo forever.  He was afraid to find out if he was right, so he remained silent and still.

He stared into the void, breathing hard, or maybe not breathing at all.  He couldn’t be sure.  At any rate, his chest hurt something awful.

The longer he stared, the more unnerved he became.  There was something out there.  Something cold. 

He started to tremble, and that seemed to be a signal, for the darkness began pulsing with need.  With want.  With _rage_.

He backed away, trying to run from the living emptiness, but knowing better.

No, he had to do this slowly, or it may give chase.

He had to—

A strange burning sensation surged through Prompto’s body, and with it came the taste of copper.  For a brief eternity, every muscle he had lit up in agony, and his eyes snapped open.  Around him, everything was swirling in and out of focus; the only thing perfectly clear was the old man’s face looming above him.  He smiled, and Prompto opened his mouth to say something, but his tongue wouldn’t wrap itself around his words.

So, instead, Prompto’s eyes traveled down the man’s body, following his impossibly large arm (seriously, was this dude a giant?) to where his palm rested against his chest, nearly swallowing it up in its vastness.

Something clanked loudly over the ringing in his ear, and he dimly recognized Noctis’ voice screaming an impressive array of obscenities.  He slowly turned his head towards the fray, but couldn’t make much out beyond the warped, flickering colors and muffled words.

When he rolled it back, the old man was gone, and in his place was the little imp daemon girl creature thing.  Her big brown eyes welled up a little and her hands fluttered around him.  “Hey, are you ok? _Shit_ , dumb question.”

Prompto furrowed his brow in confusion.  Why was the daemon talking to him?  He tried to wiggle back, its face twisting more the longer he stared.  She…it?  frowned at him, and reached out one muddy hand. “Oh six, they fucked you up, guy!”

“ _Iris_ , don’t say fuck.”  A grumbly voice sounded out loudly, startling her.  She quickly settled after a glance over her shoulder, though.

“You say fuck.” She responded blandly.

“Dammit, Iris, that’s beside the point.”   

Iris?  Isn’t that…? 

Gladiolus suddenly came into his line of sight, and his heart began to ache.  He looked just like Prompto remembered him, with the exception of his face and body doing that same odd twisting warp thing that the imp girl’s was.

Prompto swallowed thickly, his words more croaked than spoken.  “…’m I dead?”

Gladiolus and the daemon, _no_ _Iris_ , exchanged a look of alarm.  The warrior turned back to his friend, “…no?”

Prompto moaned again and tried to create a little more distance between them.  He looked down, away from the older teen.  “…’m so so sorry, Gla…adio..you shudn’t have died for me.”

Gladiolus smiled crookedly at him.  “Whaddyou mean, small fry?  I’m fine.  No mere taxi is going to take out an Amicitia.”  He got a little closer, which helped his face settle down and stay in place.

Maybe it wasn’t something happening to his face, but something happening to Prompto’s vision?

He shrugged a little at his own idle thought as he stared up at his friend.  “They tole me…you died.”

He shifted suddenly when Iris separated from Gladiolus’ side and began to circle around him.  She paused, sensing his skittishness, and held her hands up placatingly.

“I just want to untie your arms.”  Her voice was soft but urgent.

He bit his swollen bottom lip and turned back to Gladiolus, who had gotten closer himself while Prompto’s eyes had been elsewhere.  He, too, raised his hands up. “I just want to get a look at the ….the um, the collar.  The prince is….occupied.  Iggy spotted an airship a minute ago…and we gotta…we gotta get you outta here, kid. Let us help you.”

Prompto let out his breath, deflated in his defeat, and nodded once.

He tried not to cringe as they worked on his bonds.

 

* * *

 

Up until three days ago, there were only a few names on his list of people Gladiolus was willing to kill for; Nocits, Iris, Ignis and Regis.

As of now, Prompto made that cut as well.

Sitting out on taking down the man who had tortured their friend was one of the hardest things he ever had to do.  But, one look at Prompto had him scrambling to do anything to get the boy away from this place.

He’d gently examined the collar, frowning deeply at how tight it was already.  It was nearly impossible for him to wedge his fingers between the thick leather and the tender flesh of Prompto’s neck.  He doubted even Iris would be able to do it.

This meant they weren’t able to get a knife in there to cut it off. The lock kept on the D rings of the collar was heavy duty and would need some serious equipment to break.

This left only the chain itself.  Gladiolus investigated the pole while Iris quickly undid the knots in the rope around the boy’s hands.  The chain was attached pretty securely, but it was old and rusted out in several places.  The shield removed his black tank top and quickly ripped it in half, wrapping the pieces around his hands.  He then gripped the chain tightly in both hands in a spot where several links were showing weakness and yanked them in opposite directions with all his might. He grunted approvingly when they snapped and he wasted no time in scooping the boy up and heading straight outside.  Iris trailed behind him, holding the end of the chain so it would not drag on the floor.

Prompto had lost consciousness somewhere between getting scooped up and the door.  His face was slack and pale when Gladiolus handed him over to Ignis, who wrapped him up in his coat, adding Crowe’s a moment later. 

The small group gave out a collective gasp as the ground beneath them shook, and Nyx shoved his prisoner down to the ground, keeping the gun trained on him.  “The fuck was that?”

Gladiolus shook his head disbelievingly, staring at where the Niff ship was in the sky just a few moments ago.  “It appears that for once, something went right.  I’m pretty sure that was the dropship crashing.  When we get out of here, we’ll have to call someone about it, hopefully they can pick up the bastards.”

Once he was certain Prompto was being attended to, Gladiolus turned to Iris with a frown.  “Don’t think we aren’t talking about this later, either.  I can’t fucking believe—“

“See,” she interrupted, “you say ‘ _fucking_ ’ all the fucking time.”

Gladiolus wiped one hand down his face.  “That’s not the godsdamned point, Iris!  But, I’ll get to it later. You stay _here_.  Got it?”

She cocked one eyebrow, but nodded her agreement and drifted over closer to where Ignis was now holding Prompto, trying to coax a potion into him.

He glared at them for a few long moments, then headed back towards the barn, shivering from a sudden chill.  _What the hell was up with the weather? What the hell was up with the weather?_

He paused as he rounded the corner of the barn back to the front.  Not only was a dark figure emerging from the barn, but two more were slogging up the hill towards them.

Just. Great.

 

* * *

 

Noctis raged at Crepitus, who moved entirely too fast.  He’d dodged the prince’s first two strikes, making it seem easy.  He even had the gall to laugh a little. 

“You’re getting all worked up over _nothing_.”  Crepitus’ silvery eyes shone madly in the flash of lightning that stuck the ground directly outside the open double doors of the barn. 

All the hairs on Noctis’ arms rose, something hard and dark slamming to the forefront of his consciousness.  “He’s not _nothing_ , you sadistic sonofabitch.  He’s a human being, he’s—“

“ _A fucking Niff!_   That’s what he is!  The sworn enemies of your people, and you _pal around_ with him like he’s your **_fucking_ **_friend._   Like he wouldn’t stab you in the back and burn this world to ashes if given half the chance!” Crepitus’ tone was scandalized, his expression livid.  His face split in a crazed grin when he realized he had managed to work himself back near Prompto; the gun was still clutched in his shaking hand, but he kept it aloft halfway between Prompto and Noctis.

“All this; everything I’ve done is only a small _fraction_ of what he and his kind deserve!”  He shifted back as if to throw a kick into the boy’s side, but stopped at the commanding shout from the prince.

“If you touch him _one more time_ , it will be the last fucking thing you do.” Noctis snarled; adrenaline and something more sinister shooting through his veins.

Ignis had once explained it to him “in terms even he could understand”; magic was a like a large tide pool, and most of the time he stayed in the shallows, where he could see the bottom. But, there were deeper pockets, ones that were filled with powerful things and took a lot of practice to access.

Or, apparently, a lot of anger.

There was a low hum running through the open space, and it was coming from Noctis’ very bones.  He dropped his sword back into the ether, and took a fighting stance.

Crepitus smirked.  “You must think I’m as stupid as your little Niff rat, here.”  He did, however, take a step back when Noctis took one forward.

The prince’s voice was dark and dead, his magic crackling in the air around him.  “No, that’s not it at all.  I just want to kill you with my bare hands.”

Crepitus pointed the gun down at Prompto’s prone form, but in a shower of blue sparks, it was gone from his hand.  He tutted at the prince.  “Now now, you’re not playing fair.”

“Like _you_ have been?”  Noctis returned, advancing on the man, who took several more steps back.  Behind the prince, Iris ran to Prompto’s side.  As he slowly herded the larger man further from his friend, Noctis let out his magic, feeling around to find the others.  Gladiolus was just now slipping through the doors and heading to Prompto, and everyone else was in a tight knot just outside the door.

Vaguely, he also felt he hum of the approaching dropship.  But that was something to worry about soon; right now, he had a killing to attend to.

Crepitus had slid himself almost all the way to the backdoor, a predatory expression playing across his features though he was the one retreating.  He turned, almost imperceptibly, towards the exit.

And Noctis suddenly found himself barring it.  Without throwing a weapon, or even concentrating, he’d warped faster and more smoothly than he knew possible.

If he didn’t know better, the prince would say he’d teleported there.

However, there wasn’t much time for contemplation of this, as Crepitus continued towards him anyway, attempting to barrel through him out into the night.

But Nocits simply stepped back, slightly in the rain now, and lifted his right hand straight out towards the door. An invisible force slammed into the larger man, sending him flying backwards. 

He landed on his back on the floorboards, raising up on his elbows and puffing hard.  Before he could recover further, Noctis was on him, his knees slamming into the man’s chest, driving him back into the floor.  For one long moment, the prince stared down at Crepitus, who was enthralled.

Then, he raised a fist that glowed with magical flame and launched it into Crepitus’ face, rocking his head to the side and leaving a second degree burn in its wake.

The swarthy man howled in surprised pain, quickly wrenching his arms up to protect his face as the fiery blows continued to rain down.  In a rush of adrenaline, he was able to buck the teen off him and roll back to his feet. 

Noctis wasn’t even breathing hard when he stepped back up, this time emanating cold.  His grin was frostbitten rage when he drank in Crepitus’ features, who seemed surprised by the transformation before him.

The small puddles that had began to gather in the barn from the torrential rainstorm slowly froze over from where Noctis stood out, getting thicker the closer they got to Crepitus.  “What manner of magic is this?” He asked, genuinely surprised. 

Noctis did not answer, only strode forward more purposefully, pushing a wave of frosty air ahead of him.

Crepitus unwisely backed himself into the table, jarring it enough to send it’s contents rolling.  The prince quickly took inventory; mentally logging all the implements of torture…ones he’d intended to use to further _violate_ his friend…

He barely registered the snap of the chain still binding Prompto behind them; nor the shuffling steps as Gladiolus scooped the boy up in his arms and moved him towards the double doors, Iris trailing behind carrying the length of chain attached to the collar around the abused boy’s neck.

He didn’t flinch when the ground shook beneath his feet and wet straw dropped down from the loft.  His eyes were only for the silvery pair of the man he was going to kill.

Crepitus turned to run.  Noctis smiled and raised one hand, pain like a thunderous migraine snapping through his psyche, but it was gone as soon as it had come.  Before him, the swarthy man was at a full stop, midstride, his head still angled back towards Noctis.  His eyes followed the teen as far as his frozen body would allow.

Noctis circled him once, then sneered up at the man.  Saying nothing, he turned away and went back to where is his pants still lay on the floor.  He quickly slipped them back on before coming back to stand in front of his prey.

He wanted to toy with him.  Make it last forever. 

He wanted to tear the man limb from limb.

He wanted…

He wanted to get back outside to Prompto, and make sure his friend was okay…or as okay as he was ever going to be.

So without flirt or flutter, with no showboating or bragging or preamble at all, Noctis strode forward and laid his hand upon the paralyzed man’s chest, maintaining an intense gaze as he released thousands of volts of electricity into the man’s body, watching him until the lights in his eyes went out and his skin sizzled to a crisp.

 

* * *

 

 

Everything was warm.  Wet, but warm.

He felt…protected.  Safe.

He didn’t know he could feel safe anymore.

“…you’re going to be fine Prompto…”

He was floating again.  The sensation was beginning to grow on him.  He wondered how often other people got to float.

“…you’re doing great.  Just drink some of this potion for me….okay…Prompto…?”

He forced his eyes open.  “I..igggyyy?”  He slurred, a little confused. He was pretty sure it was Ignis holding him, but he didn’t remember being picked up.  He didn’t remember… “S’wet.”  He stated, rain dripping from Ignis’ chin onto his chest.

“Yes,” the adviser agreed.  “Quite.”  He said simply, allowing a tremulous grin to spread across his face.  Prompto lifted a heavily shaking hand to the older teen’s face, tracing a tear among the raindrops.

He quirked one eyebrow up at the brunette.  “Y’ok, Ig?”

The boy grunted as Ignis squeezed him a little too tightly, burying his head into Prompto’s shoulder.   “I am, now.  We all are, now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so ya'll have OFFICIALLY read a novel by me. This fic is now 50,000 + words, which is the general threshold for novelhood. I'm so proud of us all. Thanks for sticking with me!! I know it was rough! I promise the final chapter and epilogue will be pain free...for prompto at least!! We gotta save some stuff for the companion piece and the other stuff I have in store for you ;) See you next week with some more good stuff. Stay brutal.
> 
> }:)>


	19. actual chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, my dudes. To be perfectly honest, I had to really work not to make this five more chapters, lololol. Like, i just keep getting these ideas....but they will come to fruition in the future. Anywho, I ended up splitting this up, so some of what was planned fluffwise will be in the epilogue ...that will be like 80% fluff and revelations. I just felt that if I didn't get this part out today that I'd spend another week rewriting it and wellllllll...i don't wanna do that. I have the epilogue and two one shots on the way :) plus a small thingy thing that will be talked about when the epilogue is posted :) anywho, on with the story!

Some tension released from Gladiolus’ shoulders as he recognized the glowing maroon eyes of Noctis accessing his magic from the shadows of the barn.  He strode forward to put himself between his prince and the two newcomers, but visibly relaxed as Cor and a Crownsguard by the name of Barnard called out to identify themselves to the group. Before the marshal could say anything further, however, Crowe was storming forward, her face twisted up in consternation.

“About damn time you got here, Leonis!  Why didn’t you answer—“

“How’s the boy?”  Cor’s eyes flashed darkly, shooting between Gladiolus and Crowe.

The Glaive stopped short, snapping her mouth closed.  They stared each other down until the shield stepped forward after a quick glance over his prince to ensure he was alright.

Noctis’ eyes glowed brightly, but his face was impassive.  He more looked through Gladiolus than at him.  He stood silently, swaying gently in the dying rain.  But, he didn’t look as if he was about to collapse, so the warrior thought him alright enough. 

The big man had to work his answer around the lump in his throat. “He’s beat to hell, Marshal.  He’s with Iggy—“ all other words were left unspoken as Cor spotted the adviser holding the limp blond and pushed his way past the other three to get to them.

When he turned to follow, Gladiolus found that Noctis had wandered towards the group as well, though he was more heading to Nyx and the green haired man.  The other Glaive had the man on his knees, a shotgun wedged between his shoulder blades.  Gladiolus trudged behind the prince; his leg aching from all the activity.  So much for staying off it for a few days.

He hung back a little, cocking his head to the side as Noctis knelt before the prisoner, mirroring the man’s defeated posture.  He spoke softly to the green haired man, and while he was murmuring, Nyx withdrew his weapon and shuffled back a step.

The green haired man’s face crumpled at Noctis’ words and he nodded once, staring down at the ground.  Noctis let his right hand drift to the man’s sopping wet shoulder and gripped it lightly.  From his fingertips, frost traveled and spread, quickly overtaking the man as he gasped and panted out his pain until he was frozen solid.

Slowly, Noctis stood and gestured softly towards what was left of Lentium. Nyx took the silent order and, using the butt of the rifle, he broke the man in several pieces. The Glaive stood aside as the prince sauntered past, exchanging looks with Gladiolus as he dutifully followed.

They passed Crowe, who was radioing in for an ambulance.  As they approached where Cor and Ignis were now exchanging words, Noctis slowed down to a stop and so did his shield.

“…give me the boy, Scientia.”  Cor’s voice was gruff and expectant; used to having his orders followed without question or delay.

Ignis, however, only glared and gripped his limp charge more tightly.  “I’ve got him, sir.  He’s unconscious, but his pulse is strong and his breathing is…concerning, but steady.”

The Marshal’s lips were a thin angry line, and his shadowed gaze bore into the younger man’s, setting the adviser’s cheeks aflame.  It was an eternity before he spoke.  “The rain’s stopped, but the road’s still fucked.  It’s a half mile to solid ground and we need to move fast.  Give him to me.”

Ignis swallowed thickly and hesitantly handed the blond over to the older man, Iris still holding the length of chain.  With surprising gentleness, Cor cradled the blond close to his chest and started to turn away from the group.  But, before he took a step, he caught Ignis’ eyes once more.  “I hope you took a good look.”  He shifted his glare to Gladiolus, Iris, and Noctis in turn.  “All of you get a good look at what you did. Had you contacted us when you first found him to be missing, most of this could have been avoided.” A low whimper from his precious cargo got him moving, only stopping when Noctis directly blocked his path.

His eyes still glowed with his magic and a smell like ozone wafted off him.  “Please, let me see him.”

For a brief moment it looked as if the marshal would not concede to the teen’s request, but with a great sigh, he turned fully to the prince.  Noctis bit his lip as he pulled down the edge of the jacket his friend was wrapped in.   

Crystalline tears welled in his glowing eyes as he took in the bruises, swelling, dirt and matted blood.  Noctis did not have to touch him to feel the fevered warmth radiating from his skin.

His eyes darkened as they traveled to the lock on the still attached collar.  He pressed a thumb and forefinger to the metal and concentrated his ice element until it became brittle enough to snap.  Noctis carefully removed the contraption from his friend’s neck, making sure to not scrape along any of the cuts and bruises that littered his flesh.

Then, before anyone could make a move, Noctis pressed both hands to either side of Prompto’s face and brought their foreheads together in a display of protective affection.

Noctis whispered something too low for anyone else to hear, and sweetly pressed his lips against the slack ones of the blond boy.  A blue light enveloped both of them and a strange chime rent the air, startling the group of onlookers.

Though too late to undo most of the damage, Noctis’ healing spell traveled through Prompto’s body, helping to stabilize internal injuries and stop the bleeding on his reopened whip marks. His whole body relaxed and the lines of his face smoothed out as he shifted from an unsteady unconscious to a heavy sleep.

Cor cleared his throat, offering the prince a gruff nod before setting off down the hill towards the oncoming flashing lights.

Gladiolus laid a hand on Noctis’ shoulder as he began to sway, steadying him.  The raven haired boy glanced up to him, his eyes still glowing that odd maroon.  He mewled unintelligibly, his eyes welling up again, and there were a tense few seconds when the warrior thought his prince may collapse.  But, he simply leaned into Gladiolus and allowed the warrior to help him down the hill.

 

* * *

 

Ignis locked his feelings away and stepped in line with Crowe, who was rapidly firing orders into her comm.  Once she had finally disconnected with the disembodied voice on the other end, he ventured to ask her what she knew.

“We have men checking the crash site, now, but preliminary reports are showing the ship empty of anyone but a few stray MT units.  All exits to the city are blockaded so each vehicle leaving will be searched for Adam Covruss-whatever.”

“Corvusagri.”  Ignis unhelpfully supplied.

“I don’t fucking care, Scientia.” She glared from the corner of her eye, but relented a little and lowered her tone when he didn’t reply.  “Luckily this happened out in the middle of fuck-all farmstown, and we may have a shot of keeping it out of the papers.” 

They walked in silence for a while, trailing further and further from the group.  By now, Cor had nearly reached the road and was being approached by two men with a stretcher.  The Crownsguard that had come with him trailed slightly behind, while the other paced near the vehicle.

Nyx and Gladiolus flanked Noctis, each ready to hold out a steadying hand should he falter. Crowe waved a gloved hand the raven haired boy’s way, “Your prince there just executed two men without a trial.”

Ignis nodded, humming his agreement.  “Yes, I do suppose it is a good thing this happened in ‘fuck-all farmstown’, then.  I am supposing everyone here can manage to—“ he trailed off as the sky suddenly became impossibly darker, as if a shadow blocked out the stars themselves.  Below, Noctis had whirled to face them.  Ignis was unnerved at the power radiating from the boy; his eyes on the dilapidated structure perched atop the hill.

Noctis’ eyes were wide and white, his jaw set in determination as he raised both arms in the air, palms up, then circled them in and flipped them, forcing them back down quickly.

Ignis and Crowe turned and had to immediately shade their eyes as a dark blue sphere of energy rose up around the barn, white and yellow bands of force radiating from the center as the spell scorched the barn and the surrounding area from existence.

Nyx’s alarmed shout brought Ignis back around and sent him stumbling down to where his prince had finally collapsed into the mud.

 

* * *

 

It was two days later when the prince awoke, and five days before Prompto did.

Cor was delivered the news directly, and he hastily shoved some paperwork into his desk before making his way to the medical wing.

He’d only just gotten hold of the Argentums the night before.  The conversation….did not go well.

That was his fault, though, he supposed.

He never should have foisted the boy upon them.  He should have cared for the child himself.

Fifteen years ago, he’d been on a recon mission in a Gralean lab.  He and the accompanying Glaives killed a lot of people, mostly guards, a few scientists.  He’d kind of gone into a rage when he’d learned they were experimenting on children.  _Clones_ they’d called them; but to him they looked no less human than any other child he’d seen.

Unfortunately, most were too far gone to save.  It had been better to put them out of their misery, or so he told himself.

But there were a few—seven in all; none older than two—that looked ok; that didn’t burn in the sun.  The Glaives he traveled with were able to handle most of the children, but the blond one, with his chubby cheeks and bright violet eyes, would have nothing to do with anyone but Cor.  The whole way back to Insomnia, he’d kept close to the warrior, cuddling in his lap whenever able and smiling at the older man’s scowl.

It was fair to say (and was pointed out several times by his constituents) that he was quite smitten with the boy.  But, he was only 26 at the time, and was immersed in his training and his missions for the Crown.  There was no room in his life for a child.

So, he’d given the boy to some friends of a friend; a couple who had been unable to have a child of their own.  Had he known then what he knew now….

But that was beside the point. He hadn’t known, but he could fix things now.

And the first step to that was ensuring Prompto had someone who was going to be there for him in this troubling time.

His parents sure as fuck didn’t plan on it.

 

* * *

 

When Prompto opened his eyes, everything around him was white and far far too bright.  He blinked a few times, thinking it could maybe be a trick of the eyes….or maybe Crepitus had done something to him?  However, the room stayed the same. 

Though he could feel the bed below him, he was permeated with that weird floating sensation and a gentle numbness.  It was nice.

He ever so slowly lolled his head to the side, holding his breath as the room tilted from side to side.  He expected to see one of his tormentors, but instead he found Noctis curled in an uncomfortable looking armchair and Ignis sitting at a small table, quietly scritching in a notebook with a ballpoint pen.  Neither appeared to have noticed him wake up.

Bit and pieces of things flashed before his eyes, and he shut them again to try and drown the memories in blackness.

It didn’t work.

When he ventured to open his eyes again, he found it difficult to look at Noctis, so he stared at Ignis instead.  There were bags under the older teen’s eyes, and something dark that wasn’t there before.  He seemed…heavier somehow.  No, that wasn’t the right word for it.  More weighed down.  Yeah.  That was the right phrasing.  _Weighed down._

Ignis set down his pen and stared at his notebook, rereading his words. Prompto’s face broke in an involuntary smile, and when he spoke, his voice was so cracked and dry it was barely there at all.

“Do your lips…always move when you read?”

Ignis started, his sharp gaze whipping up to meet Prompto’s, a soft smile playing around his eyes.  It chased away some of the sorrow there, some of the darkness.

“Only when what I’m reading is very important and I must ensure it is worded properly.”  Ignis stretched as he stood, working out the kinks of his now obvious hours spent at that table. 

Prompto weakly jutted his chin towards the still sleeping prince while Ignis hit the call button to alert a nurse that he’d woken from his overlong slumber.  “He ok?”

Ignis’ forest gaze fell on Noctis, his eyes becoming troubled.  “I think so. How are you feeling?"

Prompto thought about it for a second, then shrugged.  "Like garbage that's ok with feeling like crap?"

Ignis smiled again.  "I would say that's a fair assessment, considering.  You haven't quite beaten your fever, and your injures will still take some time to heal.  They've got you on quite a few heavy medications, so expect to feel out of it for a while."  He cleared his throat and glanced towards Noctis again, fingers twitching in a need to adjust of fix something.  "How much do you remember?”  He turned back to Prompto after gently pulling the jacket Noctis was using as a blanket up around his shoulders.

“Probably more than I’d like, but not as much as I should.”

Ignis nodded, humming out his displeasure.  He busied himself with getting Prompto some water, which the boy drank down slowly but greedily. “You’d sustained several rather hard blows to the head; the doctor said it may affect your memory of the events, and possibly even of the days preceding the initial attack."  Now Ignis was smoothing out invisible wrinkles in his dark blue button up.  "Don’t worry about it over much if you can’t remember things right away, with time it will probably all come back to you, anyway.  Which is rather unfortunate.”

Prompto swallowed hard, looking away.  “Yeah…unfortunate.”

An odd strangled sound had him jerking his head back around, forcing the room into a horrific spin.  When it settled and he could make out Ignis’ features again, his heart broke a little.

The adviser was crying.

His eyes were red rimmed and luminous with tears.  “Prompto…gods, I am so sorry. This…all of this is my fault.  I don’t know if you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me, and I would not blame you a bit if you didn’t—“

“Woah, slow down.  What are you talking about?”  Prompto’s eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“I…I probably shouldn’t get into it, now. Perhaps later, when you’ve had more rest, I will be ready to give you a proper apology.  For now…for now, let’s just say you have nothing more to fear from these men.  None of them.  I’ve made sure of it.”

He looked as if he’d continue, but the door burst open and Cor strode in, causing more ruckus than he probably intended.  A harried nurse scrambled in behind him and began taking Prompto’s vitals. 

Cor stared at him for long moments, then turned to Ignis, who was rousing Noctis.  “May I have a few minutes alone with Prompto?”

Noctis looked as if he might argue for a second, but he settled for leaning down to wrap Prompto in an awkward hug before exiting the room with Ignis.  The nurse hurried out behind them, squeaking something about getting back to him when she’d updated the patient charts.

Once they were alone, Cor pulled the recently vacated chair closer to Prompto’s bed and smiled warmly at him.  He gave him that appraising once over, eyes traveling to each and every visible bruise and cut still evident upon his skin, and then lower to the bandages wrapped tightly about his ribs and the splint on his foot, then back up to meet his gaze with more pity in his eyes than when he’d started.

The man made several false starts before settling back in the chair with a quiet “They really did beat you to hell, didn’t they kid?”

Prompto was on high alert. He knew Cor, sure.  He’d even come around a few times when Prompto was a kid; some kind of distant relative or friend to his adoptive parents. His visits were always short, where he shared terse and awkward conversation with the elder Argentums and small talk with Prompto.  But until he’d started hanging around Noctis, he hadn’t seen the man for probably four or five years.

But there was something about his demeanor that made him nervous.  “Yes sir.”  His tone was steadier than he thought it would be.

Cor nodded at the agreement.  “I contacted your parents—“ he began, but stopped when Prompto scoffed at him.

“Let me guess; thanks for the update, but sorry we can’t make it back?  Remember to mow the yard?  That kind of thing?”

Cor merely nodded in response.

Prompto sank back into the surprisingly soft pillows, yawing a little.  “S’okay.  I been making it on my own more or less for a while, now.  I can handle this, too.” 

Mortified, Cor shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. This is not how this was supposed to go. “Shit, kid…look, there’s options, you know? Arrangements can be made; we could—“

But, Prompto had fallen back asleep. 

Cor wiped his hand over his face, groaning quietly.  “But I guess we can talk about it later.”  He quietly stood, careful not to scrape the chair legs against the floor. He pulled the white blanket up over Prompto’s chest and gently tucked some stray golden strands of hair behind the boy’s ear. 

Upon opening the door, he found Noctis standing directly outside.  He stood aside to let the boy through, and chuckled to himself as without preamble or permission Noctis climbed into the bed with Prompto, taking care to maneuver around the various cords and tubes attached to his friend, and joined him in sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for sticking with me, guys! All the noct plus prompto with fluff and cuteness and a touch of angst is gonna be in the epilogue... there may even be sweet consensual everyone-is-awake-for-it smooches. We'll see. 
> 
> Stay brutal.


	20. actual chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey yaaallll, you should be used to this by now: I may have lied a little. This is the last official chapter, but I'm posting the small epilogue tomorrow. I think I got all but one base covered, here, and I just wanna go ahead and get it out to you. Also, along with that, there will be a small announcements of sorts...which will be explained more at the end notes here.

_A dark and stormy night ten years prior to these events:_

 

The Argentums had understood they were taking in a Niff refugee child and knew it would come with challenges; they were prepared for the racism and judgment.

What they were not prepared for was finding out their adopted son was a military daemon experiment.  They’d called Cor in a panic when, after several nights of bad fever dreams in a row, they had discovered this small fact. 

The boy had caught the flu, and in a sleepless stupor had walked downstairs to make himself a drink.  In his weakened state, his hands were shaking and he dropped the cup.  The shattering glass drew his adoptive father downstairs, where he found Prompto amidst the glittering shards, trying to clean the mess.

According to his adoptive father, when he’d crouched down to try and help his sick child, he was greeted with the glowing eyes of a daemon, and the blood that trailed down his hand was black and smelled of sulfer.

When the man began to shout, he startled the boy and his eyes faded back to normal; the black liquid dissipated in a wisp of acrid smoke.

When the child began crying and asking to be held, to be _helped_ , the older Argentum had simply backed away and left him bleeding on the floor.

Standing several feet away, staring at the wretched child on the floor, he called Cor to demand the marshal come get ‘it’.

Cor had shown up not long after that to find the blond still sobbing ( _why, papa, why, papa help me please)_ , his hand bleeding sluggishly. All traces of the black substance the man had claimed to have seen was gone.

Cor was disgusted with the elder Argentum, but he didn’t discount his claims, knowing where the boy came from and what was possibly done to him before he was rescued.

He told what truth he knew; about the rescue, the experimentation records, the reason behind the barcode.  Everything.

As he told the tale, he’d bandaged the boy’s hand while he sobbed; an expression of betrayal on his face as he eyed his parents over Cor’s shoulder.  The warrior understood; he was a veritable stranger to the child, just a vaguely familiar face or maybe a name floating on his peripherals. They’d never so much as spoken as far as the boy knew, and here he was helping him while his parents refused to come near.

And gods was he _hot_.  His dancing moogle nightshirt was drenched in sweat, tears, and blood.  Cor snatched him from where he was perched on the kitchen counter, grabbing him too roughly and moving too quickly as evidenced by the alarmed squawk the boy gave, and headed for the door.

Prompto struggled weakly, calling for his parents, ( _don’t let him take me!  Mama, papa, please!_ ) who would not look at him nor follow.  Cor stopped just outside, turning to face the couple in the doorway.

“I am taking him to the hospital to get looked over, if can be bothered to meet us there.  This is still your _son_ for six sake!”  Cor snarled and turned away, quickly ducking into his car which was still idling in the drive and buckling his tiny burden in the backseat before rushing him to the nearest emergency room.

The Argentums were there when he was done signing the boy in and he’d been taken back to be examined. They were willing to continue looking after Prompto, but they had …conditions.

It was decided Cor would begin a monthly stipend for the boy’s expenses and living space.  They’d go on like this had never happened, treating the boy no different, but keeping a closer eye on him.  They reserved the right to call Cor should he show any kind of odd behavior after that.

And it had worked. For a while.  Or so he thought...

_Present day; or more accurately, four days prior to present day:_

Cor approached the door with more confidence than he felt. He did not knock upon entry, knowing the room’s occupants would not notice him, anyway.

Or rather, the ones supposed to be in there.

Sat between the two beds holding the prince and Prompto was Ignis, looking every inch as haggard as Cor himself felt. The boy even had stubble.  It was oddly unsettling to see the usually unflappable adviser in such a state. 

Cor cleared his throat uncomfortably.  The harsh words he’d spoken to the young man the day before came crashing back to him, and he was awash in a sea of guilt.  He should apologize…he should offer a bit of comfort…he should…

“Ah, so…how are they?”  He asked, finally, shuffling his feet a bit.

Ignis took a few long moments to answer, and Cor thought he may not say anything at all.  But, the bespectacled teen let out a lingering sigh and began fidgeting with the prince’s bed sheets, not attempting eye contact with the marshal.

“Noctis is merely sleeping.  The magic he accessed…well, it took a lot out of him.  He used spells unknown to his line beyond the Ring of Lucii for generations.  It is concerning to say the least, but should not affect his health adversely.”  The young adviser darted his red-rimmed eyes to Cor for a split second, before turning to gently adjust Prompto’s blankets.

“We’re, ah, still waiting on certain test results for Prompto.  To make sure…” he sniffed audibly, “…to make sure he isn’t…diseased.” Ignis’ hands trembled as he smoothed the white blanket down, taking care to not press too hard.  “He—he should be fine, otherwise.  Physically.  Given opportunity to rest and heal, of course.  The doctors used a mix of magic and medicine to get him to where he is now, which is a mostly stable condition.  His cuts and lacerations have been stitched closed, at least, and other than a few particularly deep ones on his back and upper arms, he should have minimal scarring.  His broken nose, toes, and cracked ribs have been mended, but there are a few hairline fractures near here;” Ignis gently gestured to some particularly nasty bruising near Prompto’s left temple, “and here.”  This time the adviser pointed to his own head, near the back of his skull.  “But there is no swelling and no skull fragments embedded in his brain, so they’re hopeful.”

He sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose more out of nervous habit than actual need.  “However, his fever has only increased since he’s arrived, and is currently at 104.6, and if it goes higher, he runs risk of seizures or possible brain damage.”

Cor swallowed hard, finally making his way over to where the blond rested amid his various tubes and wires; two different machines beeping at different intervals in rhythm with his deep, steady breathing. 

The marshal wanted to tuck a few of the blond strands behind a pink-tinged ear.  He wanted to speak soft words of encouragement and love.  He wanted to hold a pale hand and offer strength.

Instead, he shoved his hands in his pockets and cleared his throat uncomfortably.  “Mind if I stay for a bit?”

Ignis nodded, and waved a hand towards another plastic chair against the far wall. 

 

* * *

 

_Day two of Prompto’s Long Sleep; Noct awakes:_

 

Consciousness came slowly and blearily and far too soon. 

Once, when he was fourteen, a rebellious prince had taken to filching half drunken cups of champagne at a particularly boring ball and was quite inebriated by the time Ignis had figured it out and drug him out by his ear.

Luckily, it was a quiet dragging, and went unnoticed by most nobles.

That next morning, when Noctis experienced what Gladiolus had laughingly (loudly) called a hangover, he thought he was going to die.

That day didn’t hold a candle to this one.

When he first woke, he barely cracked his eyes before he was filled with regret, pain, and nausea.  A fuzzy Ignis sat in a plastic chair, and beyond him Prompto lay looking small and pale in his hospital bed.   Cor Leonis sat on the other side of the boy, staring intently at his phone.

He groaned and tried to sit up, barely registering Ignis scrambling to help. He managed to throw a leg over the edge of the bed before his adviser had his steadying hands on his shoulders.  He thrust a shaking arm against Ignis’ chest, shoving him back a little as he promptly vomited on the floor between his feet. 

When he was empty, he flopped back against the sheets, pale and sweating.  “Don’ feel good, Iggy,” he moaned.

“Yes, highness, I can see that.”  Ignis’ clear voice cut comfortably into his stupor, and Noctis knew everything was going to be ok.

 

* * *

 

_Day three; bring your kid sister to visit a coma patient day:_

 

“…so he just lays there and does nothing?”  Iris stood on tip toes, studying Prompto’s slack face with a deep seated curiosity.

“He’s in a coma, Iris.”

“I know that, Gladdy, but I thought he’d be like, dreaming or something.  You know, like when your eyes move around a bunch when you’re sleeping and stuff.”  She bounced on the balls of her feet and walked back towards her brother.

Now that Noctis was awake, they’d moved Prompto to a private room, which came equipped with a small desk, table, and extra chairs.  She meticulously arranged the daffodils in the bright blue vase that she had brought Prompto, then picked up the fat chocobo plush that Gladio had secretly chosen for his friend, but made her bring in.  She smiled at its happy face and then slid back over to the bed.  She gently lifted Prompto’s right arm and nestled the stuffed animal in the crook of his elbow.

Gladiolus rubbed his large hand over her shoulders, patting her affectionately.  “You’re a good kid, squirt.”  He shot her a grin and roughly ruffled her hair.  “I might even like you a little bit.”

Iris stuck her tongue out at her older brother and smoothed her hair back down.  She perked up a little, smiling her most charming smile.  Gladiolus groaned.

“Do you like me enough to give me vending machine money?  There’s one just down the hall and I saw that it has Pineapple Cactuar juuuuiiice.  Pleaaase??”

Gladiolus smiled down at her and dug his wallet out. He knew it would be useless to argue.  “Ok, but bring back one for me, too, and a can of Ebony for Iggy, ok?”

She nodded emphatically and skipped down the hall, leaving the older boys to chat.

She hummed to herself, tapping at her waist as she faced the glass fronted vending machine.  She took a few moments hemming and hawing over the selection, eventually deciding on a pack of fruit snacks for Ignis and a bag of MsC’s Plain Potato Chips for Gladio.  She stuck her tongue out at the bright yellow packaging.  They were his favorite, and between them and Cup Noodle, she didn’t know how he didn’t die of a sodium induced heart attack.

She was leaning over, deciding between a Snickers and a Sahne-nuss when she finally decided to speak up and let the man watching her know she knew he was there. “I can see you, you know.  In the glass.”  She gestured to the front of the machine without looking up.  Finally decided on the Sahne-nuss, the delicious chocolate-hazelnutty goodness calling to her, whe pressed E9 to release it from its spring-like prison. 

“You are quite the clever girl.”  The old man said, not a hint of anger or unkindness in his tone.

“I like to think so.” Iris smiled over her shoulder to the old homeless man who smiled at her as he smoothed his long beard.  “Are you here to see Prompto?”

He cocked his head to the side and gave her a thoughtful expression.  “Yes, I suppose.  How is our young friend?”

Iris shrugged one shoulder as she finally retrieved all her items and situated them in her arms.  “Gladdy seems to think he’ll be alright, but he looks pretty bad.  Ignis said he’s had a fever for a few days, now, and that’s what’s keeping him unconscious.”

“I see.” The man fell in step with her, purposely slowing their gait on the way back to the room.  Iris glanced curiously at passersby, who turned their heads pointedly away from the pair as they meandered down the hall.

“So,” she began tentatively, but not shyly.  “Why do you have an interest in Prompto, anyway?”

The old man smiled, his stormy eyes twinkling.  “Why do you?”  He echoed her question back to her.

She thought about it a moment, not sure of what to say.

He placed a large hand upon her shoulder.  “You risked your life for a boy you barely know.  You may have actually saved the day. Why did you do that?”

“Wellllll,” she drew out the word, coming to a halt in the hall.  She looked up at the old man, her brows creased in thought.  “I mean, he’s a friend of my brother’s, and he’s the very best friend of Noctis, and you know…any friend of theirs is a friend of mine.  And I don’t like it when my friends are treated badly.  I couldn’t just stand by and not do anything.”

“So you are both clever and brave.  That is a very good combination.”

She freed a thumb from the bundle she held to point back at herself.  “I’m an Amicitia.  We are born to be clever and brave.  We are the sworn protectors of House Caelum.”

“Well, then, let’s get you back to your post, shall we?”  He asked, waving his hand invitingly down the hall. 

She dipped her head in agreement and started back to the room.  “So, you didn’t answer my question.”

He rumbled a soft laugh.  “Well, I suppose I helped for much the same reason.  A friend of a friend and all that.”

Iris nodded her acceptance as they stopped outside the door.  “You coming in?”

The old man glanced about at the walls and ceiling, frowning.  “No, I think I’ve had enough of being in doors.  But do keep watch over the Caelum line, will you?  They and their cohorts seem to be magnets for trouble.”

“Will do.”  She beamed up at him.  Then, gesturing to the door with her head, said: “Can you help a lady out?”

The old man smiled grandly, “Of course,” and opened the door for her.

She whispered her thanks as she skirted by.  She didn’t bother to look behind her; she knew he’d be gone.

 

* * *

 

_The day before the day Prompto wakes up_

_-OR-_

_The day both Cor and Noctis nearly lose their shit_

 

Noctis was putting Ignis to shame at this point with the amount of coffee he’d consumed.  He hadn’t gone back to sleep since he officially woke up the day before, and it was getting to be evening time and he was losing a staring contest with fluttering eyelids of his friend.

Or maybe, the boy he loved…?

Everything was so confusing. 

He’d killed those men.  It had been the right thing to do, and he doubted any person at the scene disagreed.  Ignis confirmed to him it was all kept out of the papers, though his adviser had to feed the media something.  The story about a drop ship crashing just inside Insomnia lines was all over the pages.

And he did not feel remorse.  He’d do it again without a second thought. 

And that scared him a little. More than a little.  He’d never known himself capable of….

He pushed those thoughts, those images, out of his mind and went back to focusing on the blond.  On his smattering of freckles nearly lost beneath yellowing bruises and sallow skin.  On his slow, even breaths. On the mostly steady beeping of the heart monitor.

And though Crepitus could have just been saying it to fuck with him, once he’d considered the possibility that Prompto could indeed be in love with him, Noctis had wondered if that was what the feeling in his chest has been all along; that odd sense of freefalling on solid ground whenever he was with the other boy. The heavy blue mood when they were apart for too long.

The doctor had pronounced Prompto officially out of the woods, as he had no troubles breathing on his own and his vitals with the exception of his stubborn fever were normal.  His blood tests had a few anomalies, but there was no trace of disease. 

Thank the six for small wonders.

Now he just needed to wake up.

“You need to go to sleep, Noct.”  Gladiolus startled Noctis out of his battle of wills with Prompto’s eyelids, and he sloshed his cold coffee over his hand.

“But I want to be here when he wakes up.  Don’t want him to be alone.”  His voice was high with anxiety and caffeine.  He still hadn’t eaten anything since the day before.

Gladiolus frowned down at him, concern creasing his brow.  “Ignis is out doing some diplomatic thing or another and won’t be back until tomorrow.  I won’t tell you to leave, but I won’t sit here with you, either; I need to be home with Iris.  But, call me if anything changes, ok?”  Noctis stood awkwardly to walk his shield to the door.  Before he had it opened, however, Gladiolus pulled him into a quick embrace, then hurried out into the hall.

An hour later an armchair arrived so he could be more comfortable.

Noctis played several rounds of Kings Knight and had a sternly worded conversation with his father in which he agreed to eat something, but not leave Prompto’s room.  Soon after Regis left, a dinner plate arrived consisting of two slices of meats pizza, a bag of cheddar flavored popcorn, and a rootbeer. 

Apparently, they were done fucking with him, and were giving him no excuses or outs on complying with their deal by giving him food he would definitely eat.

He was polishing off the popcorn when it happened.

A small tremor.

He thought maybe Prompto was waking up; but it was the beginnings of a seizure.  His last slice of pizza splatted to the floor as he lurched up and began to frantically ring the nurse’s station.

The  events that transpired after were a blur to him; fragments of stress and fear.  He was shoved against a wall as a nurse and doctor ran in, barking orders at each other.

The lights flickered and the floor suddenly shook, sending all the standing occupants of the room sprawling.

Prompto’s eyes went wide, glowing a strange golden hue in the near dark of the room.  His chest was heaving and breaths coming in ragged gasps; Noctis was sure he’d heard his friend try to speak as he finally settled to a stop, going slack on the sweat soaked sheets.

The doctor reached him first, his hands visibly shaking as he checked the blond over. 

Noctis stood by, biting his lip till his mouth flooded with the tang of copper.  A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, each vying for his immediate attention.  He nearly began screaming back at them, hands already clenching unwashed raven locks, tugging painfully at his scalp.

But, everything was fine, the doctor said.  Prompto was in a fever spike, but otherwise fine.

The prince slowly uncurled his fingers at the news, letting himself off the hook.  He reiterated the doctor’s words in a breathy whisper, but ignored any further reply.

He dragged the armchair closer to the bed and plopped down in it, taking Prompto’s trembling hand in his own, kissing the back of it lightly.

Maybe he did know it was love.

 

_Meanwhile, in another part of the citadel, Cor has finally reached Prompto’s parents…._

_...it does not go well_

 

“What do you mean you won’t be back for another month?  When was the last time either one of you was even home?!”  The marshal’s voice shook with rage, sending the Crownsguard hovering outside his office door hurrying down the hall.

Cor’s eyes narrowed at the lazy excused issuing from the other end of the line.

He’d not known it had gotten this bad.

He’d pulled the Argentum’s travel records and noticed a distinct uptick of out of town trips being taken by the couple.  Their work events became more frequent and they spent more and more time out of town, ostensibly leaving Prompto alone for months at a time.  His mind filled with all sorts of questions; filled with possibilities and conclusions of why Prompto was so thin, why he was so eager to please, to keep people around him.  Why he never seemed to want to go home.

“Why?  Why can’t you come back to see your son _in the hospital?_   He was _violated_ for six sake!  Don’t you care, even a little?”

When no reply was forthcoming, Cor thought for a moment they’d simply hung up.  But, faintly; “it’s not our son.”

Cor threw the phone across the room, shattering it against the door.  For good measure, he stood and flipped his desk over, scattering its contents across the cobbled floor.

He left it there and strode out to the palace gardens to smoke his first cigarette in over twelve years.

 

* * *

 

_Day five, part one; Ignis reports in:_

 

When Ignis approached Titus Drautos’ office, he was more than a little nervous.  The older man set his nerves on edge on the best of days. 

He steeled himself and knocked with more confidence than he felt.  He entered when asked and softly closed the door behind himself.

Drautos’ office was larger and lusher than the adviser would expect of someone of his military station.  He sat across from the man at his large mahogany desk.  Behind him was a door leading off to more rooms that Ignis assumed to be the captain’s personal quarters.

“Do you know why I called you in here?”  The older man intoned, his scarred face creased in aggravation.

“No, sir.  I have already given my report of—“

“This morning, a body was found in the one of the hunting cabins just outside of Insomnia.  Do you have anything to say about that?”

Ignis pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at the desk in thought. “That does sound tragic, sir, but hardly unexpected.  The mortality rate of hunters—“

Drautos tossed a stack of papers over to the adviser and gestured for him to read them.  They contained the report written by the unfortunate hunter to find the body, and the officer in charge of the scene. There were several photos, each of which held a gruesome angle of what was left of Adam Corvusagri. 

“Most of his skin was flayed off…” the captain was saying, laying a thick finger on the corresponding area of the report.  “…while he was alive.”

Ignis stared down at the photo, eyes on those of the dead ones of his former lover.  “Yes, it would appear that is what happened.”

“Odd thing was, his face was almost perfectly in tact.”

Ignis cocked an eyebrow up at the man.  “Perhaps the killer wanted people to know who he was.”

Drautos nodded, “Seems like.”

Ignis went back to staring at the photo.  “I wish I had known who he was.  Perhaps this all could have been avoided.”

Drautos regarded the young man, leaning back in his seat. “The marshal is pretty emphatic that this all could have been avoided if you’d just called him in the first place. I’m inclined to agree.  However, this does not settle what happened here.”  He nodded towards the pictures scattered across the dark surface of the desk.

“Again, I’m not quite sure what help you believe I can offer in regards to this matter.  I suppose I can help identify the type of knife used, as the, ah, the…ribbons of skin piled around him seem rather thin.  Probably a carving knife, though there are a few varieties—“

Drautos slammed his hand on the desk, and unruffled, Ignis fell into silence.

“Where were you last night?”  The captain leaned forward, steadying his glare upon the younger man.

“I had business in Hammerhead.  The king had me take his Regalia in for special maintenance there, as he only trusts their mechanics with his personal car.  I traveled out late the night before last and arrived back early this morning.  I stayed in the caravan on the property for the duration of my visit.”

Drautos raised one eyebrow.  “Well, that answer didn’t sound rehearsed at all.”

Ignis held back a sneer.  “I’m simply telling you the events as they occurred. I can provide you with receipts, if you like.  I ate at the restaurant there; I even exchanged recipes with Takka, the proprieter.  We talked long into the night about various vegetables.  I’m sure a few phone calls—“

Drautos carded a hand through his short brown hair.  “Just go, Scientia.  But I want you to remember something in the future; you leave matters like this— _all matters like this_ —to the professionals from now on, understand?  This type of behavior will not be accepted by the citadel or the royal family.  Don’t forget your position as adviser can be taken away.  Understand?”

Ignis stood, nodding.  He offered the man a curt goodbye, and quickly left the office.

He passed Tredd on his way out, and they nodded to each other curtly. 

He glanced over his shoulder as the man entered Drautos’ office, and caught a glimpse of a man with an odd shade of maroon hair stepping out of the door behind the captain’s desk.

He could almost swear the man winked at him just before the door shut once more.

 

* * *

 

_…intermittently, throughout these last few days…._

 

At first, there was only darkness and that floating sensation he was starting to enjoy.  He swayed gently through the sea of black, always moving, but never getting anywhere. 

Then, sounds began to filter in through the pulsating shadows, and with them came bright, painful color.  Everything was hot. Everything tingled.

It was so hard to breathe.

Wait, breathe? But, if he was breathing, that would mean he was alive, right?  And if he was alive, that meant that Noctis won, right?  Right?

That was his hope, at any rate.

So, Prompto held onto the pain and discomfort, clung to it with all his being.  He used it to spur himself on each time the thought he may slip away, and soon,  soon, the painful colors gave way to shapes and coherent sounds…and…and…

…Prompto dreamt of chocobos and moogles and a strange green fox thing that had a penchant for texting.  He dreamt of thunder and ice and something dark and something light.  It’s all so real and so disconnected at once, and he’s started to feel ill, and he holds onto that as well, reveling even as his stomach rolled.

He was gonna make it back.

He had to.

 

* * *

 

_Prompto awakes, take two:_

 

He was so warm.  He hadn’t felt this comfortably warm in what seemed like ages.  He wanted to hunker down into it, nestle and stay there forever.  But he knew he couldn’t, so he reluctantly opened his eyes once more. 

The room was empty besides him and Noctis, who was gently snoring against his chest.

His eyes filled with tears as he looked down upon his friend.  His prince.  His…

How could Noctis look at him, much less want to be near him, after what he did? 

Though the last several days were a pain filled blur, he did remember a great deal.  And one of the more vivid memories was when he…

When he…

…when he was forced to…

~~sexually assault his best friend~~

He slammed his eyes closed again, tears leaking from the corners.  His hitching breath must have alerted Noctis though, for he lifted his shaggy head from Prompto’s chest. 

The blond opened his eyes to slits when Noctis caressed his cheek gently, and his eyes welled up again as he watched the slow smile spread across Noctis’ face. 

 “Hey,” the prince said; his eyebrows knitting together as Prompto’s bottom lip began to tremble, his tone soft and full of something that Prompto didn’t deserve. Noctis remained silent, waiting until Prompto met his eyes once more before speaking. “I missed you.” 

“Me, too.” Prompto murmured back at him, offering a ghost of a smile. 

Noctis furrowed his brow, his hand now trailing up to Prompto’s hair, tucking some strands behind his ear.  Prompto weakly grabbed his wrist, stopping the motion.  “Please, don’t.”

Biting his lip, Noctis shifted away, glancing down between them.  “I’m sorry; is this not…ok?  Should I not be touching you?”

“No…” Prompto stammered out, but grabbed Noctis by the arm when he went to move.  “I mean, uhm, yes. Yes, it’s fine. I..mean,  I…I don’t know.”  His mind was muddled, his racing thoughts were slamming against each other and he found himself desperate to be simultaneously alone forever and to never be alone again.  His grip increased as his hand body began to shake.  “Is that ok?”

“Of course.” Noctis gave him a crooked grin, shifting back further.  He managed to back to the edge of the hospital bed, allowing for a few inches between them.  Prompto took his hand, but looked away from him, staring blankly at the wall again.  Noctis laid his head down on his arm and gently ran his thumb repeatedly across the blond’s.

“Can you talk to me?”  Prompto asked quietly, edging closer to the prince.  “About anything; I just…I just wanna hear your voice.”

Noctis chuckled softly. “Yeah, ok. Let me think.”

He hummed quietly to himself, his thumb never ceasing its gentle ministrations.  “So, I’m pretty sure that Cor like, wants to adopt you.  He’s got a lawyer and everything.”

“What?!”  Prompto would have sat up, had he the energy.  He settled for slowly moving his head to the side to gape Noctis with incredulity. 

“Yeah, man, I dunno.  He’s got Iggy working on it.  I didn’t know you knew the marshal that well.”

Prompto rolled his eyes.  “Dude, I don’t.  He’s some kind of friend of the family or something.  He’s been by a few times, but never stuck around long.”

He did vaguely recall something about him cutting himself once when he was young and the marshal bandaging him up, but that was really it.

“And I’m pretty sure Ignis is next in line.  Then the entire Amicitia clan.”  Noctis chuckled, “And I think Crowe has decided to take you under her wing.” 

Prompto scoffed, the noise sounding harsh coming from his raw and aching throat.  “Dude, did you just make a bird pun?”

“Maybe.”   Noctis squeezed Prompto’s fingers between his own before continuing. “You have a lot of people who love you.”

The blond’s cheeks reddened significantly, and this time it had nothing to do with his fever.  Noctis had the sudden urge to surge forward and capture those soft trembling lips in his own to cease their shaking.  He had the most overwhelming desire to ensure nothing wrong ever befell Prompto again.

But he held back.

He didn't know why; he supposed it was because of decorum, duty...

But.

Well. 

Fuck that.  Fuck all of that.

“I know I do.  Love you, that is.”  Noctis breathed, leaning forward to act upon his whim.

Prompto’s lips were stiff beneath his for a second, then slowly relaxed as the boy himself did.  They moved together lazily, passionate but gentle.  Noctis moaned softly into Prompto’s mouth when the other boy tentatively parted his lips to deepen the kiss, and he ran his hand lightly along his side. 

He stopped and pulled away when Prompto hissed in pain at the contact, face screwed up in concern.

The blond offered him an almost embarrassed smile.  “Sorry, it…it just hurts.”

“Of course!”  Noctis hurried to console.  “Please don’t apologize; I shouldn’t be doing this…shouldn’t be in the bed at all…I uh, I should maybe let you get some sleep…?”  The prince began to disentangle himself from the hospital bed, holding up a hand at Prompto’s protests.

“I, I won’t go anywhere, I promise.  You just need your sleep. We can talk about this…about all this later, ok?”  Noctis hurried around the bed to where the armchair sat, and pulled it flush up against the side of the bed.  He made a small nest of a blanket, pillow, and his jacket, and once settled he took Prompto’s hand again. 

They locked eyes a moment, and Noctis gave the other boy a reassuring smile.

“I love you.” He reiterated, clearly and strongly so that Prompto would be sure to hear him, to understand.  He knew it, now. 

He would burn down all of Insomnia; all of Eos if it came to it.  He’d do it for Prompto. 

For the boy he loved.

But, for now, he would content himself with watching him sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, for those who may have been looking for more fluff, im sorry. I was unable to deliver more than this. I felt that if i were to get too far into just pure fluff territory, then you'd be here for like nine more chapters, and i would just rather go ahead and put some of that to use in hte companion piece. That will probably not start coming out until mid december, as I plan on participating in NANOWRIMO next montha nd will be unlikely to commit a whoooole lot of time to the fandom for like thirty days.
> 
> HOWEVER, that being said, with the final post that should come out tomorrow, there will be an opening of one shot requests of the 25 days of christmas persuasion. Rules will be posted within that, I just wanted to let you know so you can get your ideas together. please note that any requests left as a comment on THIS CHAPTER will be rejected. Please only submit when the last bit is posted tomorrow. But, obviously you guys can see im nearly ok with just about anything, though let's maybe keep it kind of light for the christmans theme, yea? no hardcore non con or anything. More on that tomorrow, tho. until then, stay brutal my friends.


	21. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a sweet lil epilogue for you guys that will kinda sorta help set up the entire AU of this series. Did Ellay just say AU and SERIES in the same sentence?? Yes, yes she did. I have lots more to go with this besides just the companion piece, so i hope you guys are effing ready. Please see end notes fo sho my dudes.

Ramuh sat on a bench in the park, waiting patiently.  He wished he’d had bread.  There were birds gathered near his feet, looking at him expectantly, but he had nothing to offer.  They hopped and pecked, and eventually made their way over to a more promising prospect; a harried mother and her fry-eating toddler.

He did not have to wait much longer before she arrived, sitting wordlessly next to him.

“I don’t know why you insist upon my meeting you under these circumstances, Shiva.”  He rumbled without looking at the woman.  There was no point in it, she generally kept her eyes closed (which he found unnerving, even for creatures such as they).

“Please remember to call me Gentiana on this plane.  And, to answer your question, it is good to be humbled by a mortal form now and again.”  She replied simply, her voice soft, yet powerful.

“I suppose,” he replied, stroking his beard.

She waited long moments before getting to the point of why she called him here.  “I wonder if your actions are a sign that you now believe me; that the boy is the one from the prophesy.  The King of Kings, bringer of the dawn?”

Ramuh considered her question.  “The Crystal did give him magic unknown to previous bearers of the ring; without him needing to wear it. I do believe that shows he is the one we’ve been waiting for.” 

She hummed her agreement, obviously pleased.  This is what she expected.  “And what about your helping the other?  To what end do you hope that serves?”

Ramuh looked at her then, but her eyes remained frustratingly closed, her face serene.  He cleared his throat almost uncomfortably before replying.  “I’m surprised at your lack of empathy, considering his bloodline.”

When no retort was forthcoming, Ramuh gave a deep sigh and leaned back on the bench.  “If the King of Kings is to truly bring back the light when the world falls to darkness, he’s got to have a reason.  So I helped him keep a little sunshine for himself. As a reminder.  An incentive.”

Gentiana’s expression turned slightly grim.  “I’m surprised at your lack of caution, considering his bloodline.”

Ramuh frowned down at her, but she remained unaffected.  "His birth was no fault of his own.  And besides, he's never done anything to deserve the atrocities this world decided to serve upon him."

The two gods remained silent for a long while after that, life happening all around them, but not touching either one.

Finally, Gentiana stood and turned to go. “I must be getting back to my mistress.”

Ramuh said nothing as she walked away, simply watching the birds hop about and peck the ground, three of them fighting over a dropped fry. 

“There’s a strange sort of beauty in futility.”  He said as they squabbled among themselves before he slowly faded to nothing more than the faint scent of rain upon the wind.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all you wonderful readers!! And a super duper special thanks to MsChievous and kaciart, without whom I would never get through my writing slumps and blocks; you're both inspirations and muses most grand.
> 
> OK so...like i said, im gonna participate in NANOWRIMO, so I will likely not be posting much in the month of November, if anything at all. However, I would love to do a 25 days of Christmas type deal for you guys in December in which I will take your prompts and turn them into lovely drabbles or one-shots. These will basically be used as my daily warmups before the novel writing begins, so I hope to at least have a few ready to go and post starting Dec first ( please note author also has work, family, and social obligations that may take away from currently planned time, and may not be able to post everything on time, but will try her damndest) 
> 
> Rules:
> 
> keep prompts simple and short
> 
> keep prompts kind of in tune with the theme; it does not have to be directly christmas oriented, but keep in mind this is designed for holiday enjoyment
> 
> angst is encouraged!! i love angst, you love angst, don't be afraid of the angst!
> 
> That being said, help me further my writing skills by suggesting things that may actually bring me out of the dark angst cave
> 
> because i do not 'tumblr' all that well (though if you wanna like help me learn more and like talk to me about stuff and thangs, you can find me there at ellay-gee) please post your prompt suggestions directly as a comment on this specific chapter. This will be a present for you guys, my loyal readers, who stuck it out this far.*
> 
> Feel free to post more than one prompt, but be kind and don't flood. If you see something you like, 'second' it to give that prompt a lil more attention.
> 
> If you are posting more than one prompt, please make each their own comment for organizational purposes
> 
> That's it :) I look forward to this and hope to be able to get it all posted for you guys on schedule!
> 
> *if you happen to be on tumblr, and happen to want to toss a prompt my way there, that would be acceptable, but i do still prefer to just have them here to help keep it organized.
> 
> [disclaimer] Please note author will choose from the prompts if there are more than 25 given (meaning it is not first come first served, so feel free to think on it and come back); author retains the right to squish similar or complementary prompts together. Please be advised that author is 'down for pretty much anything' but will be refraining from subjects she finds 'icky' or unpalatable. (basically i'm not doing anything too out there *sexually*, guys. i am not one to kinkshame, but if ur asking for sexy stuff in any way, shape, or form, i basically reserve the right to skip over anything i would find uncomfortable (though you can see that's not a whole lot, soooooo take that with a grain of salt))

**Author's Note:**

> baaahhhh I'm so nervous for this one. I just keep getting meaner and more dark as I go on. I hope no one minds O.o
> 
> ps imma figure out this whole itallics thing again at a later date. sorry if it gets at all confusing. it is almost bedtime and my brain is tired and does not speak html.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Sorry I Yelled](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11808924) by [StrawberryChocobo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryChocobo/pseuds/StrawberryChocobo)




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